The Marauders' School of Magic
by Nautica Dawn
Summary: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood...the names go on. The heroes of the war disappeared seven years ago, and now secrets are being revealed as a new school for witchcraft and wizardy opens up. [HHr, DLL, NL, GP][Book 7] [Fin]
1. Prelude: A New Beginning

**_The Marauders' School of Magic_**

_Prelude_

_A New Beginning_

* * *

Bodies were strewn everywhere as green eyes flickered over the battlefield. Hogwarts, a battlefield, the idea was almost preposterous if he were not looking at it.

Remus had fallen. So had Tonks and Fred, and countless others. He knew that he had trained many of them during the days of Dumbledore's Army.

"It just wasn't enough," He muttered under his breath.

It was true that the Dark Lord had been defeated, but the cost had been too high. McGonagall was the Headmistress now to a broken school in a time of rebuilding.

"Want to talk?"

He spun around to see a face covered in blood and dirt, though her cinnamon eyes were gleaming with a mixture of sorrow and elation. He idly wondered if he looked the same.

He sighed and turned back to the castle that was the first real home he had ever known since that fateful Halloween when he was still and infant.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," He explained in a soft voice that she was certain could have broken a thousand hearts, "Everything that happened to us after Ron left. How are we supposed to tell them? I always thought my future was in the ground, that I would have died and taken Voldemort with me. Now he's dead and I'm alive."

She stepped up and slid her tiny hand into his, lacing their fingers together, "We'll get through this Harry, we always do. Ginny and Ron will be able to understand with time."

He shook his head, "No they won't. Hermione, don't you see? There is no place for us here. Not unless it's a part of the Weasley family."

Both sets of eyes fixed on the school they knew they could never return to.

"I want to leave."

From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile, "I was hoping you would say that. In fact, I've got some plans I think you would be interested in."

"Do they involve Godric's Hollow?"

Her smile widened, "Actually yes. I want to restore your old home. And my own grandmother has a massive manor out there, hidden away from the town. I was thinking of starting a school for Muggle-born witches and wizards. I thought Godric's Hollow would be the best place because it's only half magical. They'd fit in there."

"Then let's go," He whispered.

"We need to alert the people from here that might be possible faculty members," She replied, "I was thinking Neville, Luna, and Lavender."

"Why Lavender?"

"She's great with animals."

For the first time since the battle ended, Harry Potter laughed. Three paper cranes took off into the sky as a small crack signaled a departure.

* * *

_**Seven Years Later…**_

* * *

Children laughed and shrieked with joy as they raced from the platform to the carriages waiting for them. Elegant white horses stood still, tossing their heads as they waited for the children to board.

Within minutes, the carriages took off. The ride was long, and by the time they got there, all of the young students-to-be were in awe.

The school was beautiful. Buried deep in the woods and mountains outside Godric's Hollow, the school was a stone manor with an echo of the turn of the century in its architecture. Which turn of the century would always be debated, but that was beside the point.

As the children filed into the manor, only a few realized that it was larger on the inside than it was on the outside, but they understood that it was supposed to be that way.

After all, it was magic.

They all entered a hall filled with five long tables, four on the floor with them, running from the door to the platform that held the fifth table, which stretched from window to window; it's occupants facing the new arrivals.

A man in an oxford-style white shirt and black pants beneath an open robe of emerald green stood. They all noticed that his eyes were a vibrant green that not even his robe could match, his messy black hair darker than a starless night. And they all saw the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Welcome," He began, his voice filling the hall, "To the Marauders' School of Magic for Muggle-borns. I am proud to welcome you, the first class, to this fledgling school. We will be learning and living together for the seven years as you study to become witches and wizards. You all have a gift and though many of the purebloods would say that you do not belong in the world of magic, we believe you do."

He bent down to whisper something to the brown-haired woman sitting next to him before standing up and beginning his speech once more.

"There are four dormitories here at Marauders'. They are Padfoot, Prongs, Moony, and Lilium. Each has a table here. If you look to the ceiling, you will see a stag above Prongs, a dog above Padfoot, a crescent moon above Moony, and a lily above Lilium. You will sit depending on where your dorm table is for any occasion that you are in here unless circumstances change. Professor Lovegood," He nodded to a blonde witch that stood up and walked in front of the table, a piece of paper in her hands, "Will handle the sorting into the dorms."

He sat back down and the blonde, wearing radish earrings as many of the students could now see, smiled and held the paper out on her outstretched palm. She beckoned to a young redheaded boy at the front of the crowd. He stepped forward and placed his right hand on the paper as instructed. Almost immediately, a silvery light came from the paper and turned into a dog frolicking around him.

"Padfoot," Professor Lovegood said plainly, already beckoning for the next student.

At the head table, Harry sat and watched the sorting before he realized that Hermione was smiling at him.

"Don't make fun of me," He whispered, "You know I don't like making speeches."

"I think you did wonderfully dear," She replied, her smile staying in place, "I think this will be wonderful."

"So do I," He murmured.

And the maiden term of the Marauders' School of Magic began.

* * *

A/N: I wanted to do something that was a little more cannon-oriented since _Cherish_ will be very different from The-Book-That-Did-Not-Happen (DH). I was trying to write a chapter of _Cherish_ when this popped into my mind. For anyone that doesn't know, _Lilium_ is the genus of the flower lily. I refuse to give Wormy a house so Lily got it instead.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the school.

Please tell me what you think.

Until next time,

Hikari Adams


	2. Chapter One: Of Hogwarts and Marauders

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter One_

_Of Hogwarts and Marauders_

* * *

"Minerva."

The aging witch glanced up from her paperwork to see a pair of disgruntled redheads standing before her desk.

She set down her quill and sat up straight, "Well?"

The younger of the two, a witch in green robes, scowled slightly, "You were right. There were no Muggle-borns in this new group of first-years. They all rejected their Hogwarts acceptance."

"Thank you Ginny," Minerva turned her attention to the wizard, "Have you found out why?"

He made a face somewhere between confusion and discomfort as he replied, "I had to pull some strings, but apparently a new school has opened up just outside of Godric's Hollow. It's a Muggle-born only school and apparently their first class is pretty big."

She nodded, "That's to be expected after what happened during the war. Even though it's been seven years, none of the Muggle families that have a witch or wizard about to enter school are very trusting of Hogwarts and other schools that teach purebloods as well."

"My contact in the Department of Education," He continued as he passed a manila file to the elderly witch, "Managed to get me some other information. They're pretty similar to Hogwarts, which is probably part of their appeal. And from what I could gather about their staff, they're better qualified than half of ours."

"Thank you Ron."

He held up a hand, "Just understand that I couldn't get the identity of their workers. When they set this up they covered all the security bases."

She nodded and opened the file, her eyes growing wide, "Oh my."

"Yeah," Ron breathed.

Ginny glanced between her brother and her boss, "What?"

Minerva glanced up at her and read the name of the school, "The Marauders' School of Magic."

The temperature in the room dropped and Ginny's heart skipped a beat.

"Harry."

* * *

"In my fifth year," A raven-haired man lectured as he sat on the edge of a desk, "I was taught that I should not know how to fight. There was a war going on at the time, and I was a prime target. That single year changed everything," His green eyes swept over the classroom of nervous students seated in neat rows of desks, "So I want you to do a few things before I begin. Stand up, push all the desks to the sides of the room, and come to the middle with your wands drawn."

In a flurry of movement, the class quickly completed his orders. As they stood waiting for further instruction, a little girl with sandy brown hair held up her hand.

He nodded at her, "Yes?"

"What will we be doing Headmaster?"

He smiled, "What's your name?"

"Charity Donovan," She blushed as she mumbled the name.

"Which house do you belong to Miss Donovan?"

"Lilium."

He nodded, "I'll have to pass that along. We're trying to see if there are personality types that go into the certain houses. You remind me of the head of Lilium," He stood up from where he was seated, "We will start off with one of my favorites—the disarming spell."

Time seemed to fly by and it was all too soon that the bell signaling the end of the class was ringing throughout the campus. With the announcement that they would continue the next day, the class filed out.

As Harry sat down behind his desk, he noticed the paper crane flying peacefully into the room. He sighed and caught the message.

It unfolded itself in his hands, revealing his wife's neat handwriting:

_An owl just arrived; Hogwarts is sending two emissaries here to work out a deal. Apparently we've taken a large portion of their population away from them. They have two Muggle-borns attending in this year's batch of new students and they want to 'make sure the others are being taken care of appropriately'. If you ask me they simply want to know why we seem so much better to the Muggle-born students that are beginning their education this year._

_The letter is in your office. The owl didn't stick around after delivering it._

His head hit the back of his chair as he sighed again.

They had expected something like that to occur. They were an unusual school in an unusual place. And they had a very recognizable name to anyone knowledgeable in the first war. The Marauders, with one exception, were heroes. He knew Hermione had covered all the bases at keeping everything aside from the name hush-hush.

The house names, the names of the faculty, it was all under the highest security. Kingsley had broken a lot of laws by encoding all of their information with the highest-level spells. Harry was certain that only Bill Weasley would have any kind of chance at breaking into their records. Even then, Hermione had worked closely with Kingsley to make sure that not even Bill would have an easy time at getting into that information.

It was the way they wanted it. Everyone working there was a hero from the war. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, Draco Malfoy, and the list only went on. He knew they were listed as 'Missing, Presumed Dead' on the official records. None of them wanted the attention.

Originally he had never believed Hermione's idea would work. A school for Muggle-born witches and wizards only was absolutely preposterous. Yet here they were, seven years of hard work later and the school was doing brilliantly.

Of course he knew that the problem with Hogwarts would arise, they all knew it would happen. But after seven years, perhaps the others would be willing to enter back into wizarding society.

"I wonder who they're sending," He murmured absentmindedly.

* * *

A/N: These chapters are going to be short until the Trio plus others meet up again.

So in the next chapter: The Wicked Witch…cough…I mean Ginny, and Ron, head out to Godric's Hollow while the school prepares for the visitors. Typically, nothing goes according to plan.

My thank you list:** talapadme, PreppyTigger23, Chibi-Penguin-Chan, redlion2286, and sweetgirl23**

Until next time,

Hikari Adams


	3. Chapter Two: Wasteland Nostalgia

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Two_

_Wasteland Nostalgia_

* * *

"So what do you think this school will be like?" Ginny asked nonchalantly as she stared out the window of the train.

Ron just stared at his sister.

He was amazed at how good she had become at hiding her emotions. She was acting so laid-back when he knew she was filled to the brim with excitement.

"It's Harry, who knows?" He offered in the same tone. It was surprisingly easy as he himself dealt with the same anxiety.

Ginny's brown eyes flickered to him, "Do you think all the other missing people are with him?"

"Probably," He sighed, "That more than likely the reason we can't access the data on them."

"They've got inside help at the ministry."

"Probably Kingsley."

The siblings lapsed into silence.

Ginny idly wondered if she should take up her old job of keeping her brother sane. It had been a rough time seven years ago when his best friend and the love of his life vanished from the Battle of Hogwarts. She knew it had been even harder on him, though he would never admit it, when they were still around. She didn't know much about what happened during their hunt for the little items of evil that Voldemort had hidden around the world, just that Ron had left the search for a few weeks and when they reunited and returned to Hogwarts for the battle, the redhead was clearly out of the loop with something.

She too had dealt with that rejection. Hermione had refused to speak with her, working almost exclusively with the small platoon that she and Harry had assembled upon returning to the school. But it was Harry that she hadn't been able to deal with. She had waited so long for the war to be over, for them to be free to be together, and he had refused to acknowledge her existence. He had simply kept to himself, as he seemed to speak only to the people in his group.

The real shocker had been even worse. It had surprised everyone that the two Weasley siblings so close to them had been left out of the tight-knit group when Draco Malfoy had been included.

Her brown eyes slid closed and in her mind's eye she saw the ebony cenotaph in the graveyard behind the white tomb of a certain blue-eyed headmaster.

Draco Malfoy had been just the tip of the iceberg. The majority of the platoon that had been working directly with two thirds of the legendary Golden Trio had vanished.

There was Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, and of course Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. They had all disappeared. Of the detachment, only George Weasley was known to be alive and well after everything had been said and done. His brother Fred, and Parvati's sister Padma, was among the four confirmed dead. They had lost the Lupin family, consisting of Tonks and Remus, in the battle as well, only to find that little Teddy Lupin had vanished after the war was over and done with.

Kingsley and the others had admitted to the grieving grandparents that it was more than likely that a Death Eater had escaped and taken the infant werewolf with them for unknown reasons. She was beginning to doubt that. If Kingsley was involved in the cover-up for Harry, then it was possible that her love had taken his godson with him and the new Minister was just hiding it. She sighed and let her train of thought get back on course.

There had been so many others that lost their lives that fateful day.

And so many lost loves as well.

Ginny sighed heavily. She could still hear her mother's wails as she mourned the family that seemed impossible when the final reports had come in. It had been, and still was, common knowledge that Molly Weasley had wanted nothing more than for Ginny to take the Potter name and for Hermione to take the Weasley name. When she had been informed that both Harry and Hermione were missing and were presumed dead…well, it hadn't been pretty.

Of course it hurt the people directly involved even more. Ginny's dreams had contained nothing but children with flaming red hair and vibrant green eyes since she had first seen him at the tender age of ten. She knew Ron had had similar visions of the future with Hermione.

But the broken Golden Trio had left behind a shattered remnant in the end.

Ron was only slightly more composed than his sister as he too stared out the window at the blurring landscape, but only on the outside.

Inside, he was a train wreck.

Being jilted by his best friend and the woman he loved so much had caused a mix of anger and jealousy that day, but losing them had been even worse. He had been with the grieving George, who had just been informed of his twin's death, when Minerva had pulled him aside to give him the news.

All it had taken was for her to say the words and his entire world crashed like a house of cards around him.

He clenched his jaw as the unfamiliar landscape rushed past the window. It was during times like this that he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't fought with them, if he hadn't left them alone.

Would he have been included in that secretive legion? Would he have been with his beloved in what he, until recently, had believed to be her final moments? Would he have been there to witness the moment when the raven-haired man he saw as a surrogate brother took the life of the Dark Lord? George had seen it, but he had remained silent for the short time he had remained with his family, vanishing into the sun one day. It had been almost three years at that point.

Not a word had come from Ron's favorite brother after that. In the end, Minerva had added his name to the cenotaph as well, even though no knowledge was actually known about his fate.

He had thought they were dead, and that was closure, he knew that he would heal those wounds with time.

But now he had to live knowing that they could still be alive. Perhaps that was why he had requested that he and his sister be the emissaries to the new school. They would finally be able to find the answers to questions that had been bothering them since the meeting with Minerva two weeks ago. They would be able to confront their demons that had haunted them through melancholy dreams of memories and visions of the 'what ifs'.

He had hated the pain in the beginning, the pain that had haunted him for close to a decade, but the pain of the current situation was so much worse.

"We're here," Ginny's soft voice cut through his thoughts as his eyes widened upon taking in the sights of the Godric's Hollow station.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded and stood, following his sister to the platform with their luggage.

Ginny glanced around at the quaint little town, smiling softly at the warm and loving feel everything around her had. She turned to find her brother with a similar expression of awe written in his features.

"Was it like this when you came here?"

Ron stared at Ginny as if she had grown a second head, "What are you talking about? I've never been here."

"But Hermione and Harry were talking about…" She trailed off, the dots connecting in her mind.

The missing pieces of their lives had gone to Godric's Hollow during the time when Ron left them.

They had gone on the pilgrimage that was so vitally important to the Boy-Who-Lived, now called the Man-Who-Conquered. They had made the journey without him.

Her attention fluttered to her brother as she noticed the implication of her words as well.

Had her hearing been super-human, she would have heard his heart stop before racing frantically.

"Hello!"

The two jumped and spun around, hands instinctively going to their wands.

A little girl with sandy hair and bright eyes of hazel coloration stood smiling on the platform. Her appearance was overall Muggle, including the uniform. Both felt ashamed as the realization that they had been about to attack a defenseless girl sank in.

"Hello," Ron greeted.

Ginny nodded, her brown eyes fixed on the symbol on the breast of the girl's shirt.

It was a coat of arms with a crescent moon, a paw-print, a lily, and the silhouette of a buck's head beneath the words that had started it all.

_The Marauders' School of Magic_.

She shook her head to dispel the thoughts, smiling as she listened to the girl.

"I'm Charity Donovan. The Headmaster has asked me to escort the two of you to the campus," Her smile remained in place as she tilted her head up to meet Ron's gaze, the light glinting off of her glasses, "If you'll please follow me."

She beckoned with her hand and the two exchanged glances as they went with her through the town.

The female Weasley sighed and brushed a strand of flame red hair out of her face, "I'm Ginny," She offered, "And this is my brother Ron."

Charity's head bobbed down in a nod, "I know, the two of you are talked about sometimes in our Wizard Studies class."

"Wizard Studies?"

"Yep!" The cheery girl spun around and walked backward as she explained, "You see, we're all Muggle-born or in some cases, we're purebloods or half-bloods that were raised as Muggles. We don't know anything about wizards but we know almost everything about Muggles. So instead of studying what we know, we're taught about what we don't know. Other classes cover history and stuff like that, but in Wizard Studies we learn about the culture of the magical world. You know, things like children's stories and popular food and other things."

The thoughts rushed around in Ron's head for a moment, "That makes sense," He turned to his sister, "Why hasn't Hogwarts thought of that?"

Ginny just rolled her eyes, "So Charity, can you give us the sale's pitch about the school?"

The younger girl gigged as she resumed to walking the correct way. Without warning she began to recite the words, as if reading from a text, "The Marauders' School of Magic for Muggle-borns is a new school dedicated to the proper integration of Muggle-raised magical children into wizarding society. After the debacle of the wars some prejudice remains facing magical children from non-magical backgrounds. The school wishes to teach these young witches and wizards how to properly survive in a world that is so against them.

"At normal wizard schools such as Hogwarts, Muggle-borns are faced with horrid treatment from purebloods and in some cases even half-bloods. The Marauders' School of Magic is about creating a safe environment with top-notch education to show the world that a magical upbringing is not necessary to become a great witch or wizard.

"It was found during the Great War that Muggle-borns are not given a true introduction to the wizarding world and this can cause problems relating to pureblood, and some half-blood, peers. They are pushed into an unfamiliar world surrounded by unfamiliar things and strange, outlandish customs. A Muggle-raised witch or wizard is never given the chance to learn how to really survive in the magical society.

"Which is where the Marauders' School of Magic comes into the picture. It teaches us how to survive, how to reach our dreams in a world that doesn't believe we can succeed. The school has been called prejudiced and segregated, but it is merely trying to protect its valued students. Which is one reason for the location. Godric's Hollow, though you can see that we are in the purely magical district on the northern outskirts of town, is half non-magical. This allows us to be involved in both worlds," Her smile turned slightly sad, "It gives us a chance to adjust. That's why the school's uniforms are like Muggle schools and why we're encouraged to study and practice small magic, unless we're in the training grounds, then we can practice the bigger stuff but only if we have a teacher with us."

Charity fell silent and boarded a carriage pulled by two white horses, looking back to make sure that the Weasley siblings followed her lead.

And then they were off into the woods surrounding the hamlet.

"What about dormitories?" Ginny, unlike her brother, was genuinely interested in how the school ran.

As the schoolgirl explained about the houses, pointing to the crest on her shirt every now and then, Ron let his attention wander.

Had it really been that hard? He knew that Hermione had had some problems with the overall treatment of Muggle-borns during the war; he had seen her reaction when they had infiltrated the Ministry.

But had she really been uncomfortable? He knew that she had virtually no knowledge of the wizarding world outside of what she had been taught at Hogwarts, but had that made life within the magical community bad enough that she wanted to separate herself from it all?

And then there was Harry.

Ron could think of countless times that his best friends had required an explanation to something he or another schoolmate had said. At each incident, he hadn't thought much of it. In hindsight, he realized that they really had been struggling. They had been the greatest witch and wizard to walk the world and they were, in the privacy of their minds, outcasts. They had nowhere to belong because of the ways, the non-magical ways, that they had been raised.

"So who is your favorite teacher?"

The question shook Ron out of his reverie as he returned his attention to the small girl called Charity.

The girl in question tapped her lips with her finger in thought.

"I don't really know. I like them all," She blushed, "But according to the Headmaster, I'm a little bit of a know-it-all. He says I'm just like my head of house. To be honest, the Headmaster, who also teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, is probably one of my favorites. And my head of house, she teaches Transfiguration. I like my Charms professor too, she's really weird but at the same time she's probably one of the sanest people I know. There's my Herbology professor, I don't know why I like him. Maybe because I know he's a lot like me," She lapsed into thought, "But my all-time favorite is probably my Wizard Studies professor. He went through a lot of hardships during the war, well, they all did, but he had it the worst. I know the kind of pain he had to go through, because I lost my twin sister Chastity in the war. Death Eater attack on a Muggle home," She added as she saw their expressions of shock.

"But he's stronger than I am, he was able to carry on with his life by himself," She laughed bitterly and Ginny thought that it was too adult for such a young child, "I wasn't able to smile until I came here and met him. His strength to go on, to live his brother's life for him in addition to his own life, it gave me the strength to move on and do the same for Chastity. I knew she was a witch too, and she deserved to come here with me. Yes, that's right. He's my favorite teacher, because I can only hope that one day I'll be as great as he is. I guess you could say he's my role model."

The girl blushed vividly and apologized for rambling when she should have been answering any other questions.

It was Ron's turn to take over the conversation as he asked about curriculum and what a normal day was like.

Which left Ginny to think about what was going on.

Charity's story reminded her so much of George's. She wondered idly if that had been what her brother's life was like after losing his other half. Charity made it so much easier to understand why the school existed.

In all honesty, Ginny had originally seen the school as an excuse to separate purebloods from Muggle-borns. But as the little sandy-haired girl continued to talk, she realized that the school was needed, and badly. The wounds of the war still hurt the Muggle-born community more than any other. A school like the Marauders' was needed to help heal those wounds, to help regain some stability between the two main racial groups of the wizarding world. Purebloods and Muggle-borns were going to need an eternity to heal on their own, but with a school like the Marauders', those wounds might heal a little bit faster.

Why hadn't Hogwarts thought of paying more attention to their students coming from a non-magical background? A lot of strife could have been avoided, and it could have been prevented in the current classes.

Charity suddenly sat up straight, her face lighting up.

"We're here," She exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

She shot out of the carriage, laughing as she bounced up the steps of the manor.

Ginny and Ron froze as they stood next to the carriage.

The manor was impressive, with ancient blackish-grey stone covered in vines and Spanish moss. The doors were a majestic mahogany, and they could see the open-air walkways that led throughout the expansive estate.

It was amazing that something so…magical…could be hidden so efficiently in the forest of giant trees in the hills outside of Godric's Hollow. Even as used to Hogwarts, the place they were employed at, as they were, nothing could have prepared them for the wonder of the Marauders' School of Magic.

"Charity," Ginny called lightly, "Do you know what we're supposed to do first?"

She smiled and looked behind them, "You're going to meet my hero."

The Weasley siblings were confused by her comment.

"Ginny?" A new voice asked, the surprise evident in his tone, "Ron?"

They both spun around; after all, they had spent years believing that they would never hear that voice again.

As they saw who the newcomer was, tears burned in both of them. Ginny threw herself into the arms of the professor, her green robes odd against his Muggle clothing.

She was mumbling unintelligibly as Ron stared on in shock, not even noticing his own tears.

From the top of the steps, Charity Donovan watched on. She knew that the rage and anger of betrayal would come later, but for now they were together again and the moment, while bittersweet, was wonderful beyond words as it lasted for however long it would.

For through the tears and the pain, the joy and the confusion, there would always be the love. It had been a hard lesson for her to learn, but she had.

Her own tears welled up behind her closed eyes and she smiled up at the blue sky that peeked through the canopy of the trees.

Sometimes she really hated her empathy. It was, in some ways, the worst of the psychic powers to have. She lived in a cloud of emotions every day, and because of her age she didn't have the control to keep them from affecting her.

As her eyes slid open, she saw a flash of white from the corner of her eye, somewhere off to the right. Tilting her head a little bit, she saw a woman standing in the shadows behind a pillar, her own smile dancing across her mouth.

The blue eyes that Charity had become so used to in the short months that the school had been in session were filled with tears. From where she stood, she could feel the emotions rolling off of her fellow psychic and professor.

Happiness, sorrow, regret, and something else so powerful that it made Charity's heart feel as if it were going to swell and burst.

Unable to control her ability, the young girl broke out laughing, the bell-like sound filling the forest as white feathers rained down on them, the doves that had previously been sleeping in some hidden crevice taking off in flight.

"We thought you were dead," Ron muttered.

The other man, still holding Ginny, looked up and smiled, "So did I."

* * *

A/N: Okay, it's official; this will be taking on a few AU qualities as I explain about the manor. It mainly twists Hermione's family tree to fit the story. And to fit two characters that I REALLY want to put in here. 

So, who is the mystery man? You'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out!

My thank you list: **immortal7, WhiteTiger1992, intomeili, **spazzy**, Tris16, Go's Gurl, sweetgirl23, TwistedBloodyRegrets, PreppyTiger23, gare de lyon-ROAR, delusionalmilitant, talapadme, Dark Yellow Dino, Chloris, **and **cutecess**.

Until next time,

Hikari Adams


	4. Chapter Three: Long Way To Be Happy

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Three_

_Long Way to be Happy_

* * *

**To all of you that guessed George…CONGRATS!**

* * *

To say that Ginny and Ron Weasley were overjoyed was the understatement of the century.

Little Charity Donovan had run off to tell the Headmaster to postpone their meeting with him, giving them the afternoon free to spend with the Wizard Studies professor that was seated at the little table on the terrace overlooking the school's botanical garden in the courtyard. Everything was picturesque in a way that hadn't been witnessed since before the rise of the Dark Lord. It was everything they could do to keep the tears from flowing.

Four years after vanishing into a wine red sunset had left a very different George Weasley for his younger siblings to find.

Ginny examined her brother as the three lapsed into silence.

His hair was the same flame red as hers or Ron's, or that of any other member of the Weasley family. But his blue eyes, those blue eyes that she had last seen as dull and flat, were filled with some kind of peace that she couldn't begin to fathom. He looked almost happy. The moment that she had seen him, standing at the foot of the steps behind them, all the words that the little girl with the sandy hair and the hazel eyes had said began to fall into place in her mind.

"Ginny?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his, the tears returning, "Yes?"

The warmth that spread within her chest whenever he spoke was something akin to relief that everything had turned out all right for her elder brother.

Everything could be heard in his voice, could be seen in the easy posture he used while sitting. It was both professional and informal, but most of all it was comfortable, something she hadn't seen from him since they carried Fred's body into the Great Hall.

"Why are you guys here?"

Ron shifted in his seat before placing his elbows on the table in front of them, "Minerva asked us to come."

Understanding came over George's expression, "You two are the delegates from Hogwarts."

It wasn't a question; it was a confirmation.

"Yes," The youngest of the siblings admitted, "She wanted to know why there was such a sharp decline in the Muggle-born students this year. When she heard about this school, she wanted to know more. She was afraid it was something that had been started by an old Death Eater and they were trying to kill off the Muggle-borns."

"And then we saw the name of the school," Ron added in a whisper, "We had to come. Everyone needs to know what happened to that platoon."

George's eyes narrowed dangerously, "You're stepping into treacherous territory dear Ronnikins."

"We have to know," Ginny's voice was dark as she spoke the words slowly.

"You're not going to like it."

"We know," She responded, "Trust me on this. But you still have to let us hope."

George shrugged, "You're only hurting yourselves."

Ginny smacked her head on the table.

Sensing that damage control was needed, Ron said the first thing that came to mind, "So you teach Wizard Studies?"

"Yeah. It's actually a very intriguing class. I never realized just how odd all of this stuff is for them," He paused, eying his siblings carefully, "So what, do the two of you work for Hogwarts now?"

"Yes," The youngest of the Weasley men explained, "I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ginny here teaches Charms."

"What about the others?" Ginny cut in, an edge to her voice as the anger finally began to set in, "The rest of the missing people, what about them? What do they do?"

George smiled, "I thought that would have been obvious."

* * *

Harry sat down at the table, sighing as he ran a hand through his black hair in a familiar movement.

"So, what's gone wrong this time Potter?"

He glared at the blonde man seated across the round table, "Shut up Draco, I really don't need to deal with you right now."

"It's about the Hogwarts emissaries," Hermione took over, her quiet voice cutting through all trains of thought with ease, "They sent people we didn't expect."

"They were just supposed to be no-name teachers, right?" The other woman's light eyes were filled with worry as she reached under the table for her husband's hand, "What could be so bad?"

Hermione's gaze flickered from the brunette to the blonde woman sitting beside her, and nodded, "Luna, could you please tell Lavender what's so wrong with this situation. I really don't think I can without…well, you know."

Luna nodded and took a deep breath before answering, "It's Ron and Ginny," The response was a surprise, few expected the enigmatic Lovegood to give such a straight forward answer, "They've already seen George, that's why none of us have seen them. George knew I was there, and he saw Miss Donovan. My guess is he's trying to tie his siblings up long enough to give us some time to get ready."

"Neville," Harry spoke clearly, despite his obvious reluctance with the situation, "I'll need you and Lavender to handle tours around the campus for them. You'll take either Ron or Ginny, respectively probably. That would be best. The two of you don't have the ties to them that the rest of us have, and we can't have Serena or Kris getting to them before we have time to prepare them."

Said professors huffed at their missed chance.

Hermione leaned over and placed a hand on the arm of the closest one, a young woman with jet-black hair, "It's alright, we just need to prepare them as Harry said. They never knew about you, nor did they know that much about your fathers. It could cause problems if they reacted too strongly to you two."

"We understand," the other professor, another woman with golden eyes that were impossible for any human, "But what about the two of you? I understand that you were with this Ron, right Mia? And Harry was with the other one. Don't you think they're going to be a little more than upset when they find out the two of you are married when technically speaking, neither one of you ended your relationship with either of these Weasley kids?"

"Yes," she answered, "We're actually going to talk about that once this meeting is over."

"Which would be now," Harry announced, standing up as the others followed suit, "Thank you all for being so understanding with the situation."

There was some soft murmuring among the staff as they filed out of the room, leaving the two founders alone.

"Harry," she started as soon as the door swung closed behind Draco.

He held up a hand, "Don't start Hermione. I know the risks of accepting their stay here. And I know that it would be best to just send them back to Hogwarts, but it really is time that they knew the truth."

"Harry James Potter that is exactly what I was going to say!"

"Sorry!" he flinched at the sharp tone in her voice. Hermione's expression softened at the childlike gleam in his eyes and she smiled. Sensing that the danger was over, Harry stood and returned her smile, "But really love, what else can we do? It's been seven years already."

The bookworm moved over to sit on the desk behind him. She pulled him towards her and let her head rest just below his shoulder, whispering against his chest, "I don't know any more. A part of me wants to continue living the way we were before all of this. Back when it was just us, still trying to set up a school, still recruiting and visiting homes of families with Muggle-born children. I miss the days before Hogwarts knew about Marauders'. I miss the days before Ray and Kris were in danger of exposure," she raised her head enough for cinnamon to meet emerald, "I miss the days when it was just us."

Harry laughed softly, a darkness tinting the sound as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, "I know Mia. But what I miss was a Hermione without the violent mood swings. That was nice. I mean, Lavender's bad enough, but you too?"

"Harry!" she was laughing despite herself, much to her surprise.

"Just stating the facts," he whispered under his breath. The comment earned him a painful pinch on the arm, courtesy of the woman in his arms, "But I do understand what you mean. Ron and Ginny must hate us now that they know. And I'm sure the rest of clan Weasley will be pissed off once they find out that not only did we run away together, but we stole George away from them too."

"No we didn't," she pointed out softly, "I seem to remember George showing up at our doorstep one rainy night, practically begging us to let him join in."

"I still think Luna had something to do with that."

"She might have. Who knows how her power works? You seem to forget the unpredictability of psychics like her."

"That is such an oxymoron," Harry whispered against her cheek as he kissed her briefly, "I promise that everything is going to work out fine. Don't worry your little hormonal head about a thing, alright?"

He turned to walk out the door, but his comment was answered with a book smashing into the back of his head. His glasses fell to the floor from the force of the impact and he dropped to the floor after them, searching frantically for the missing item. A blurry pair of shoes appeared before him, a charming voice chuckling somewhere above his head.

"You are so juvenile sometimes," Hermione was still laughing as she placed his glasses back in their place over his eyes, "You ought to know better than to say something like that to a woman in my position."

He just stared up at her from behind his lashes, "I'm sorry. I was under the impression that you were completely normal."

Hermione glared for a couple of seconds before relaxing, "I am, but I can't help it if you're a complete idiot."

They both managed roughly a minute of stoic silence. Eventually they both cracked and started laughing as Hermione helped her husband up from the floor and left the room with him.

* * *

Not far from there, the Weasley siblings were still sitting in the same place. Ron and Ginny were staring at George, and George was reclining in his seat, a smirk in place.

"Let me get this straight," Ginny began slowly, choking on the words, "What you're saying is that Harry is both the headmaster as well as the professor for DADA?"

"Yes."

"And Hermione is the deputy headmistress and the transfiguration professor?"

"Yes."

"Luna teaches charms?"

"Yes."

"And Neville has Herbology?"

"Yip."

"Draco is the Potions Master?"

George nodded, waiting for Ginny to continue her mini-rant, as it had become, in preparation for her big rant, which was what was bound to come at the end of all this.

"And Lavender Brown is the Care of Magical Creatures professor as well as the groundkeeper?"

"Surprisingly, she's very good at it. Who would have thought she'd be so passionate about nature?"

Ron snorted at the insult hidden within George's comment.

Until he realized the insult had been directed at them.

He wanted to protest, but Ginny kept talking, "Dean Thomas teaches…what does he teach again?"

Her older brother laughed, "He teaches both broomstick control and maintenance and he also teaches a Muggle art class. Right now he and his first hour art class are spending the weekend out in a cave not too far from here. They're studying the primitive drawings in there. Next weekend it'll be his second hour and so on until they're done."

"And Paravati teaches divination?"

Ron was amazed at how intent Ginny was on all of this. Though he himself was still processing a lot of the information, he hadn't quite expected his sister's reaction. She had always been the most levelheaded of the Weasleys, second only to Charlie. Then again, Charlie was her favorite brother, so perhaps the characteristic had simply made an impression on the only female child.

George nodded again, "Yes. She actually makes it quite interesting. She's found ways of integrating Muggle life into it. I sat in one day when my Wizard Studies class was working on a research project in the library. I never thought that woman would ever really be good at anything regarding children, but she's absolutely wonderful. I've actually started stealing teaching methods from her. She's that good, she really is."

Ginny rolled her eyes and continued her barrage of questions, "Andromeda Tonks is the librarian?"

George's smile faded, "Yes. Harry and Hermione didn't want her to be on her own. She was having a really hard time after the battle; so they brought her here and let her have the library. Turns out she's almost as passionate about books as Hermione is. The two of them are almost always sitting in the courtyard of the library, yes there's a courtyard," He added, seeing Ron's incredulous stare, "You didn't really think that Hermione would stand for a simple and small, did you? This library that she and Andromeda have built could put the one at Hogwarts to shame. It's got all of the old books from Hermione's, Harry's, and the Blacks' family collections. I took some of the Weasley books when I left, the ones that Fred and I wrote, and they're in there. Luna put all of the Lovegood collection in there and Draco did the same with the Malfoy. Though, most of Draco's stuff is either in the restricted section or in the private library for the professors in Harry's office. Dean donated some books; all of the professors contributed something to it. There's a lot of really rare stuff in there. Andromeda had a field day with Hermione when they finally got to see it all. They spent the better part of two years cataloging and organizing everything."

"Okay," Ginny shook of the deviation from her rant and went back to her questions, "This…Serena…character teaches politics and all that good number stuff, right?"

Even George flinched at the sharpness in his sister's voice.

He nodded slowly and waited for her to continue.

"And Kris, the other new one, she teaches history?"

"Yeah," George answered, his eyes flickering to where Ron was cowering in his seat from Ginny's attention, "Both she and Serena are cousins of Hermione's. You'll meet them later. They're really interesting to say the least," he sighed heavily, "I really don't know how to describe them. Those two really are something else."

Ron was fed up with his sister's semi-reluctance to fully believe what was going on. He himself was having trouble, but saw that there was nothing that could go back to the way they had always dreamed it would be.

He really hated being grown-up.

"George," he cut in, interrupting Ginny's new rant, "What else can you tell us about them? Our old friends, how have they been?"

Ginny felt ashamed for a moment, "Yeah, how have they been?" the question was solemn as she sat back in her seat, waiting for George to answer.

"Well, Lavender and Neville are married," he began.

"I'm not even going to ask," Ron groaned, placing his head in his hands.

Ginny just pinched the bridge of her nose, "That is so wrong."

The eldest of them simply laughed, "Actually, they go together quite well. They're expecting their first child around Halloween. It's a big thing right now, everyone's excited about it."

"What about Harry and Hermione?"

That was the question that George Weasley had been waiting for, and he knew that Ron had been waiting for the braver Ginny to ask it.

"Harry and Hermione," he started slowly, his mind drifting to his employers, "I think you should ask them yourselves."

The two younger siblings both stood up, knocking over their chairs in the process, and prepared to let their building anger out.

And they would have, had a soft voice behind them not stopped them.

"Thanks George. We needed the extra time. Luna about had heart failure when she saw who the delegates were."

Ginny and Ron spun around to face the newcomer, and were shocked at the sight they were met with.

He had lost all baby fat, and was taller that either could remember him being. Like George, he had a laid back quality to him, some inner peace that they couldn't even begin to fathom. His eyes were twinkling happily, like he was enjoying some joke told to him by a friend. Everything about him was so different that Ginny could remember. That boy she had gone to the Yule Ball with was gone and this was the man left in his place. She was surprisingly happy about the situation. She didn't know why, but the building anger that had been coming during her little rant was dying. The tempest postponed for a while. She smiled at the sight of him, the man that she had never thought would amount to anything. Her gaze drifted to his companion, at whom Ron was staring.

The newcomer's arm was around a woman with chocolate hair and light eyes that reminded them of her namesake. She too was surrounded by that tranquility that was possessed by both her colleague and her husband. She had changed, Ron saw, from the shallow girl he had briefly dated during their school days. No longer was she vain, the way he had remembered her, but she seemed down-to-earth in a way that he had never been. She had grown up and he was still a child in so many ways.

"Lav," he whispered, not quite believing the sight before them, "Neville," Ron, despite a part of his mind screaming at him to be angry for the betrayal, simply called out, "Hey."

"Hello Ron," Lavender replied, a smile fighting its way across her features, "Hello Ginny."

"Hi."

Neville removed his arm from her waist and clapped his hands, smiling widely, "Now, about that tour."

* * *

A/N: Urgh. I hate transition chapters. Sadly, that is what this is. And I hate it.

Next chapter: Should I put a preview? It is the Golden Trio plus Ginny reunion…okay, here it is:

"_Why did you go?"_

"_Things aren't the same anymore. We had to grow up sometime Ron. You honestly didn't expect us all to stay the same forever, did you?"_

"_Sirius? Remus?"_

And there you have it, the only preview I'm giving for the next chapter.

Now for my thank you list: **deitarion/SSokolow, ShadowDog34, Clell65619, mafercita.**

Thank you and until next time,

Hikari Adams


	5. Four: What Happens to the Brokenhearted

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Four_

_What Happens to the Brokenhearted_

* * *

**A/N: This is important. Someone brought to my attention the issue of Mary-Sues and my two OCs, Kris and Serena. They won't be like that, I promise you. These two are from a short story series that I write for my friends. One of them pointed out some similarities between them and a couple of people from the HP world. So since they're about to have a major role in the next story arc of ARA (the shorts series), I brought them into **_**Marauders'**_** to do a little character development. So please, don't worry about the dreaded Mary-Sues that are bent on world domination. I am one stronghold fighting off that army of evil. Now onto the chapter I've been waiting for.**

* * *

"I want to see the town." 

Ron should have known that his night would be in ruins by midnight the moment those words left his sister's mouth.

He sighed heavily and went back to unpacking. His tour with Neville had taken up his entire day, and he had missed dinner with the rest of the school as a result. Ginny had met the same ending with Lavender. Apparently the two women had found quite a bit to talk about. Of course, Ron would have loved to discuss things with Neville, but the plant-loving professor had been adamantly polite and adamantly secretive.

According to Ginny, Lavender had been quite open about things. But then again, Lavender was expecting and Ginny was female. He had a sneaking suspicion that Lavender had used her pregnancy as an excuse to keep quiet. Ron could remember what Ginny had been like with Onélia, Fleur and Bill's first child. The little part-Veela girl had been smothered with attention from her only, biological, Weasley aunt.

"Fine, where do you want to start?" he droned.

Ginny perked up a bit once she realized she was going to get her way. She smiled softly, "I remember Harry mentioning a memorial, back before the Battle of Hogwarts. I was hoping we could go and see it."

He returned her smile, "Sure, I've actually been wanting to see that myself."

He watched as his sister bounced to her room to fetch her coat. It was only early September and already the temperature was dropping. The weather kept taking him back to a time before the metaphorical arrow aimed at the apple above his head had missed its mark. It felt almost as if it were lodged in his throat. He couldn't seem to say a word of what he wanted to so desperately say.

Needless to say, nothing was going right.

Ron should have been at school, preparing classes and helping students with their homework. He should not have been at some little upstart school, chasing ghosts that obviously wanted to stay gone. It was all rather confusing. It had seemed to him that George had wanted to come out of hiding just a little. Then he had dealt with Neville, the one that obviously liked the way things were.

Then again, Neville never did like being in the public eye very much; it was something that was more George's thing.

And then there was the issue of the two mystery professors. He had heard nothing about them before, as Hermione had never mentioned much of anything about her family outside of the topic of her parents during the war. Yet George had distinctly said that the two enigmas were related to her.

"Ron!"

He jumped and spun around, only to be hit in the face with his coat.

"Sorry Gin, I didn't mean to space out like that."

She huffed, "Just don't do it again."

With that said, they disappeared into the night.

The town was fairly dark, the orange glow of the street lights far apart. The brother and sister duo kept close together as they pushed their way past the biting wind and into the night.

"So how were things with Lavender?" Ron finally asked. Ginny had only given him an overview earlier and now that they really had the time for the full story, he wanted it.

She shrugged, "She seemed normal enough. For a woman six months along, she's actually quite nice. I still remember when Penelope was expecting. I don't think I've ever pitied Percy as much as I did then. She was just downright scary."

"That's not what I'm asking. Did she say anything about the war?"

"You know," Ginny's voice was thoughtful as her brown eyes stared up at the velvet sky above her, "I tried asking her once or twice, but she kept avoiding the questions."

"What did you ask her?" he prodded.

"I asked her why they ran and how Voldemort was killed."

He was silent for a while before whispering, "I asked Neville the same questions, and he did the same thing. Well, not quite," his voice dropped even lower and she had to struggle to hear it, "He did tell me why they left."

"And?"

"Apparently none of them wanted to be in the public eye. They figured that they'd have been forced into Ministry jobs. They all wanted to be teachers and they wanted to be left alone."

"And you believe that?"

He shrugged, "I think there's something missing because when I asked about how the war ended, he got to be pretty secretive. I don't think I've ever known Neville to be that icy before."

"Lavender just brought up the baby," Ginny replied mournfully, "I wonder how she knew…oh, wait. I forgot that Neville had mentioned Luna. If she really did see us when we first met George, then that means that she used…"

Her voice trailed off as the memories began surfacing. It had been a big thing in their year, having a real psychic among their numbers that is. No one had been quite sure of what the Lovegood was capable of, not even Luna herself. Ginny's mind brought forth memories of her interactions with the odd witch from right after Harry had left her at the funeral. Luna had seemed to know too much, so the Weasley had guessed empathy must have been an ability Loony had been capable of. Was it really that farfetched to assume telepathy as well? She relayed the information to her brother and watched him carefully as he digested the information.

"She knew what to use to against us," he finally muttered, "That's why Lav and Neville were able to distract us."

"Lav?" Ginny scoffed, "No wonder Neville was being so icy. You keep calling his wife by a pet name you used when the two of you dated."

Ron blushed, his skin temporarily matching his hair, "Old habits die hard."

"I know what you mean," she smiled broadly, "Can you believe it? After seven years, we finally find the loves we lost."

"We've likely lost them already. We'll probably have to settle for being just friends."

Ginny shook her head, "I know it sounds idealistic and childish, as well as selfish, of me to think like this, but something in me says to hold onto hope that all of our faithfulness and waiting have paid off. Who knows, maybe we really will be family the way Mother always wanted it to be."

"I want to have that hope Gin, I really do, but I can't and neither can you. We need to be prepared. We have no idea what to expect. Hell, Harry and Hermione could have married each other for all we know!"

An awkward silence descended upon them at Ron's outburst.

"Let's think of something else my brother."

"Yeah."

They passed the memorial in silence and made their way to a little café Ginny had spotted near the centre of the town.

* * *

Harry and Hermione were taking their time, walking slowly through the sleepy town of Godric's Hollow. It was September, and it was already beginning to chill the town's occupants with the coming claws of winter. They passed the memorial and entered into a little café on the side of the street. It was a favorite place of theirs. 

"Harry! Hermione!"

They both froze in the doorway. Hermione's cinnamon eyes flickered to the little espresso bar to her right. Behind it, their usual waitress, a young Muggle woman named Marcy, smiled apologetically.

Sitting in the Potters' usual booth were two faces they had been lucky enough to avoid. Hermione sighed and Harry placed a gentle hand against her lower back. A silent conversation happened between the two before she resigned to joining the Weasley siblings at the table.

Harry sighed and took the seat next to Ginny, leaving a rather disgruntled Hermione with Ron. Both unconsciously adjusted their gloves, the sable cloth covering their left hands and the rings around their fingers. Upon close inspection, the outline of Hermione's engagement ring could be seen, but she hid it within the sleeve of her coat, not wanting either of the currently ignorant siblings to know.

"It's been a long time," Ginny's voice was soft, but it grated Hermione's nerves just a little. She had forgotten just how high pitched the Weasley girl's voice was.

"Yeah, it has."

Ron sat up straight, slightly in shock. He had known Harry for years and had never heard an edge quite like that in his friend's tone. It was eerily reminiscent of the way Neville had been that afternoon. He was reminded, once again, that he and his sister were treading rather rashly into unstable territory. Neville had implied that there had been a reason for going underground after the war, and Ron was curious, but unwilling to ruin an already delicate friendship over it.

Hermione, who had been signaling to the waitress for the usual orders for her and Harry, smiled stiffly at the two delegates, "We were hoping to have a little more time before this confrontation, so you must excuse us if we are a little tense right now."

Ginny nodded sagely, "It's alright. We understand that you weren't expecting us to come. I don't think there really is a good way to handle this situation. If I were you, I'd probably be just as lost."

It was mere luck that Harry and Ron didn't kick each other, their feet finding their intended targets of Hermione and Ginny, respectively, without unjust injury to one another.

Ron couldn't believe that his sister had dumped oil on a dangerous fire like Hermione's temper like that. His sister was supposed to be the smart one after all. Yet she had said **that** to the miffed brunette sitting beside him. Ginny was not acting like herself, and he wondered briefly if she considered Hermione a threat to a relationship that died almost eight years ago.

Harry was also in disbelief that the younger Weasley had said something so foolish to the deputy headmistress of the school they were guests at. He knew from personal experience, such as the moment in the conference room earlier that day that Hermione was slightly temperamental in her current situation. Not only was she sitting next to the man she had been determined to avoid, she was dealing with a snarky witch that should have known better. Still, his main objective was to keep the Weasley siblings from reporting back to Hogwarts, saying that the professors of Marauders' were violent and disturbed. He knew more than anyone that they were all disturbed, but he would be much happier if the future guaranteed those private scars remaining just that: private.

It was a word that meant so much to the survivors of the platoon that engaged Voldemort personally. That small group of tainted souls had seen so much that if they were to tell anyone, ears would have been rotting off. It was awful, the horrors they had witnessed, the carnage that many of them had personally caused. Harry could still remember Luna's breakdown after she detonated one of the bombs the Weasley twins had armed the entire group with. She had managed to hold out until the end of the battle, but she had promptly collapsed in a puddle of tears upon arriving in Godric's Hollow.

Hermione hadn't been much better. She was simply more composed, but that didn't stop Harry from hearing her soft cries during the middle of the night. And it sure as hell didn't stop him from noticing when she vanished from her place in his arms in the middle of the night. More than once he had found her in the library with Luna or Andromeda, sometimes both, just weeping and grieving for the lost souls of both sides.

Even Draco had eventually broken. He did it in a way that was impossible to notice if one wasn't accustomed to such secrecy. But Harry was and he saw everything. The blonde man, though hated for so many years, was nothing but a victim of circumstance, much like Harry himself. He had suffered at the hands of a twisted family that had so many black stains that it was impossible to decipher half of Draco's past. Hermione had also seen through his charade, the way he had drowned himself in his work. It was the same way she dealt with grief, and Harry knew the composed, stoic mask better than any Spartan warrior.

Dean Thomas, the carefree and jovial young man he usually was, had suffered his own collapse. He had no family to speak of, and that sense of being alone had hurt more than anything. He was still a bit of an enigma, a being who thrived in the present but did not linger on what had already come to pass. He was still suffering, Harry could see, and as he watched Hermione speak with the two redheads about the current happenings as Hogwarts, he realized that they were all suffering. They always would be. They all just dealt with it in different ways.

Neville and Lavender had found each other, and that was their salvation, just as Hermione was Harry's and vice versa. Luna had found the gardens of the campus and was often seen helping Neville and his wife tended to the plants growing there. Draco had found that he was, in fact, very good with children. Andromeda had become a mother-like figure to all who spent time in the library. He had often wondered if it was simply her way of dealing with the deaths of her husband Ted, daughter Nymphadora, and son-in-law Remus all in one fell swoop. After a while, though, he had realized that it was simply who Sirius's sister was.

George had found the serious study of the Muggle world to be wonderful, and he loved teaching. Paravati was much the same way with divination, and there was a little bet going around the other teachers about a possible match sometime in the future. Serena had always been level headed, according to both Kris and Hermione, and she had a way to blow of steam with her younger half-brother once a month. He was slightly jealous of her in that respect, but at the same time would never wish for her…health…situation. Kris, the passionate and rather annoying young woman, had found solace in a strange family-like relationship with Andromeda.

Harry never would understand his in-laws. But then again, what man did?

"So Harry," Ron's voice so different than he remembered, cut through his thoughts, "What have you been up to?"

He exchanged a look with Hermione and saw nothing in her cinnamon eyes. She had slipped into her business-mode and wasn't ready to come out. He hated the way she could hide everything so easily when he had so much trouble keeping any kind of emotion out of his expressions.

He sighed, "I think we need to take a walk. Ginny, why don't you come with me?"

Hermione made a small noise in protest, but her husband simply ignored her as he helped the red-haired woman stand up.

"Why don't we all meet back at the school in half and hour?"

"Fine with me," the elder Weasley answered.

The brunette watched Ginny and Harry vanish into the night, and she reluctantly let herself be pulled away from the café by Ron. After a few minutes of aimless walking, she sighed and began pulling him. After more turns that Ron could count, she stopped. He almost ran into her, but she sidestepped, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her.

"A playground?"

"Yes," she answered, "Kris and I used to come here a lot with Serena. I always loved it here."

She fell silent and walked away from him, sitting down on a swing. She motioned towards the empty swing beside her.

"You won't bite?" he joked.

She smiled maliciously, "That's more Serena's thing."

He flinched before taking the seat next to her, "Should I be worried?"

"No, she's spoken for. He's a great guy. I never really thought she would ever find someone. But she did, and I couldn't be happier for her."

"And you?" there was a solemn edge to his voice as he spoke softly, "Are you spoken for as well?"

Hermione was silent for longer than necessary.

"You know Ron, if you had been this perceptive seven years ago, I might have been willing to give you a second chance."

He laughed bitterly, "No you wouldn't have. It was Harry, always him. I was nothing more than a replacement," blue met brown as their gazes met, "I'm not a silver medal Hermione."

"I know," she whispered, "I know. That's why you're right; I couldn't have given you a second chance. Not after you left in the middle of the hunt. I spent too much time with Harry; we went through too much together in the time that you were gone. The stress was too much without you there. We did what we had to in order to remain sane."

"I get it, so stop worrying about offending me."

"Thank you Ron."

He laughed, happier this time, "So when's the wedding?"

He fell silent as she looked away in what seemed to be shame. He called her name softly, and was answered with her removing her left glove. Time seemed to stop as first the emerald set in silver came into view, followed by the silver band that marked her bondage.

"You couldn't even invite us?"

She stood up quickly, "No! I couldn't have. What had happened during the battle," she choked on her words for a moment, unable to say anything, "No one from the group was willing to have outsiders involved, and frankly, Harry and I didn't want outsiders involved. It was simply too risky at that time."

Ron thought Hermione was going to say something else, but that choking effect had returned to her. He had noticed it with Neville too, and was beginning to be curious as to what it was they were trying to say. The Longbottom had covered up the effect fairly well with the way he kept hiding it behind sharp comments and a tone of voice worthy of an eleven-year-old Draco Malfoy, but Ron had still noticed the way he had seemed to choke on certain phrases.

Then Hermione's announcement sank in all the way.

Without warning, he began laughing once again, this time hysterically.

"What is wrong with you Weasley?"

Between gasping breaths, he explained, "I told Ginny. I told her that for all we knew, you and Harry could have married each other. I just never expected that to be true!"

Hermione was silent before she joined in his laughter. He could hear her, and it seemed to him like she was afraid to be laughing with him, like she didn't want to be. She sounded broken, yet that same peace that held Neville and George wove its way through her voice. He couldn't understand it. He knew that he should have been angry with her, but somehow, the anger just wasn't coming to him. A part of him, a nasty little voice he tried to ignore, whispered to him that the hurt and fury was still building, just waiting for the right time, the right person, to show itself. He shook the dark thoughts away, and just listened to the girl he once believed he loved.

"You always did have a way of being weird like that Ronald. I never did understand it. Sometimes I thought you had tendencies like Luna, but then Luna turned out to really be psychic. You're not, Luna confirmed that, so please tell me why it is that you have this odd talent for saying off-handed comments that turn out to be true."

He shrugged, "It's something I've always done. With Fred and George as your older brothers, you learn to think like that. Why do you think I'm so good at chess? It's because I can figure out what's about to happen, even if I don't realize it."

"So where does this leave us?"

Hermione's question had dual meaning, and Ron caught both sides. He knew what he was doing was foolish, but he still had to try. That insatiable curiosity always got the better of him, and he had to know. First it had been Neville, and now Hermione. Something like that, that action similar to choking, it wasn't normal. He had his suspicions, and needed to know what Hermione could tell him.

"You could start with the battle," his voice had lost its volume again, and he shifted on the swing to face her, "You could start by explaining why you and Harry built that platoon and left me out of it. We were the Golden Trio, and I know it sounds selfish of me, but I just want to know why the Trio broke."

She sighed heavily, her earlier mirth becoming nothing more than an evanescent memory within a single breath. She had been expecting him to ask about that. The entire staff of Marauders' had been expecting it. They were the mysterious heroes of the war, the nobodies that should have died or not been involved in the slightest. Yet they were the saviors, and people wanted to know why. When Luna had come back with the news that the delegates were Ron and Ginny, the intense discussions from the past seven years came back with a painful vigor. It was probably the only time she could really recall there ever being a real schism among them. They had all agreed to secrecy, but the way to dodge the questions, and how to deal with people asking those dark questions, they were subjects that had often been disagreed upon.

And now she was going to have to test those uncharted waters alone. She was afraid, absolutely terrified about what could happen, but this was Ron and somewhere in her, she felt as if he deserved some understanding.

Overall she just wanted him to go home and to take his little sister, forgetting that Marauders' had ever existed. She knew that was just a fleeting fancy and that she would have to answer him in some fashion.

She licked her lips nervously and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands came up to fold just below her chin, her head delicately supported by the limbs.

"It was never our intention, in the beginning, to do what we did. Then you left, and we came here for the first time. Back then I hadn't recognized it as my grandmother's hometown. I had never been in the wizard part of town before, and it is so drastically different than the Muggle half that I was used to at that time. It wasn't until we wandered over by the memorial and I saw this place that I realized where we were. I didn't tell Harry until after the war. A part of me wanted to make sure Kris and Ray were safe first. And then there was that whole mess with Teddy."

"He's here, isn't he?"

She smiled softly and nodded, "We had Andromeda signed on as our librarian and she wasn't really in any shape to care for an infant with Teddy's condition, so we brought him here too. He's Harry's godson, and you know Harry. But I couldn't let Teddy go to an orphanage or foster home either. Not without a lot on my conscience."

Ron just nodded, "So what now?"

"We find a way to salvage the Trio and protect the privacy of the staff."

"How about we start with those cousins of yours?"

Hermione's laugh went up to the moon, an echo of days long gone and what may come to pass.

* * *

Across town, that same moonlight fell on another pair that walked in an uncomfortable silence. Neither was willing to begin a conversation for fear of starting something unpleasant and neither was willing to begin something that might be pleasant. 

It was a moot point in other words.

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I didn't want the fame, none of us did."

The exchange was short, but the female of the two, a lithe figure with flame red hair, was unsatisfied with the answer.

"You could have come back to me Harry."

He stopped and rounded on her, hands in his pockets and emerald eyes gleaming, "Come back to what? You never knew me Ginny. You were just in love with the idea of me."

"You never gave me a chance," she retorted.

He shrugged, "Maybe you're right, but I wouldn't give up Mia for the world."

Her polite countenance vanished, "Who?"

Harry sighed and pulled off his left glove, the silver ring glinting in the pale light, "I married Hermione almost eight years ago Ginny."

"What?" she slowly sauntered towards him in a way that had him reaching discretely for his wand, afraid of the hexes that might come from the angered redhead, "You married her when you never broke things off with me? She never broke things off with Ron either!"

"But you and I were over," he coldly cut in, "Remember? We split up at the funeral in my sixth year. You were an escape Ginny, that's not a healthy relationship. I needed someone who had been there every step of the way, who would know how to help me when I woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares of things I'd seen. Hermione is the only one who can claim that she has always been by my side."

"What about Ron?"

"He abandoned us in the middle of the hunt."

"But Hermione never ended things with him."

He sighed, "You're right, she didn't. But she knew he would understand."

"It was supposed to be a fairytale ending," she whispered. Harry turned sharply and began walking back to the school and Ginny had to scurry to catch up, "I've been the adult. I've been patient, waiting for you to return. Now I find out that you've gone and married another woman in that time."

"It can't be helped Ginny. Hermione and I would have ended up together regardless of any other commitments," he chuckled darkly at a memory, "Luna's always said that we were an affair in the making. I only would have caused you disappointment."

The school loomed in sight and she was finally aware of just how fast they were moving, and of how far they never travelled. She sighed, exasperated with his stubbornness.

"You're the hero," the young woman mumbled, "And I guess you got your girl."

They crossed the threshold into the school and were met with the sight of Ron and Hermione bickering like siblings. Ginny stifled as giggle that died as soon as she heard Harry's reply to her comment.

"I'm not the hero."

The words were almost silent, and he was gone before she could reply, his position having changed to his wife's side. Ginny sighed wistfully as she watched the brunette lean up against him, her attention never leaving the elder Weasley.

"Hermione! Harry! How many times have we told you how mean it is to keep old friends from us?" the voice was obnoxious and loud, and to Ron it was slightly familiar. He hadn't heard it for almost a decade; it was still there, at the back of his mind with the happy memories of a magical map.

"Don't you love us?" Ginny stiffened at the sound of the second voice. It was familiar, very familiar. The way the calm seemed permanent but slightly tortured, she remembered it all perfectly, even though it had been close to eight years since she had last heard it.

All four of the old friends turned toward the stairs to face the two people standing at the top.

The Potter's stiffened upon realizing who the newcomers were and the Weasley's gaped openly at the two new figures.

Ron's disbelieving voice filled the hall, "Sirius? Remus?"

* * *

A/N: (insert: evil laugh). I love cliffhangers if I'm the one in control. They're so much more fun that way. 

Until next time,

Hikari Adams


	6. Chapter Five: Memories in the Rain

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Five_

_Memories In the Rain_

* * *

"My father and I were estranged if that's what you're wondering. My mother died when I was a young girl, and Father couldn't bear to see me. He was too heartbroken, and then what happened with my godfather simply made the mess worse."

The other woman nodded, "Ah, yes. My father. I can't thank you enough for proving his innocence, even if it was too late to save him."

Ginny Weasley was not an easy woman to surprise. Yet as the rain pounded on the windows shining in the moonlight, she was stunned.

She and Ron sat in Harry's office, the little Potter family having bowed out of the discussion after a brief introduction. The two women sitting across from the siblings bore a striking resemblance to the men Ron had referred to them as.

The tall woman on the left, with her dark blonde hair and pale face matched with solemn gold eyes, was in a strange way, the spitting image of Remus Lupin. She spoke in a similar even tone, tinged with a little bit of fatigue; they couldn't help but notice that she stayed out of the moonlight streaming in through the window.

She followed their gaze, "I'm a different breed of werewolf. My mother was one too, and I took after her. I only transform if I'm touched directly by the moonlight, and unlike Father, I don't lose control. I'm a little bit like a wolfhound than an actual wolf. It was only by mere luck that Mia and Harry managed to get my little brother to me in time for me to override the werewolf genes of our father. Teddy is like me now; he won't suffer the way Father did."

Ginny nodded and turned to face the second woman. She was shorter than Serena, with ebony hair and eyes. Her skin was pale, but with an olive shade. Her features were childish, in a way, and she looked as if she were used to laughing. Ron had difficultly believing that the young woman, who was rather annoying when she really began talking, was really the daughter of a man accused of mass murder.

But he was really hung up on one thing.

"Sirius was married?"

Kris giggled, "Yep! Papa didn't talk about Mama that much because he didn't want to put us in danger. It was safer for us if he pretended that we didn't exist."

"This is too weird for me," Ginny announced as she stood up, "I'm off to bed, Ron you can stay but I've heard too much today. I need to get to sleep now before insomnia hits."

Her brother smiled brightly, all too hyper at that time of…morning, "Night Gin!"

She rolled her eyes and stalked off through the manor. Her room was somewhere on the third floor, little Charity Donovan had shown her the way earlier that day, but the school looked very different in the dark. She took the flight she thought was correct and entered the door that should have been hers.

And she walked in on a half dressed Draco Malfoy.

"Sorry!" she squeaked and averted her eyes, but not before catching sight of the jagged, rope-like lightening bolt scar running down the left side of his chest. The sound of rustling fabric reached her ears and when she opened her eyes, he had pulled his shirt on.

"What do you want Weasley?"

Her blush, already redder than her hair, darkened a little bit, "I was trying to get to my room. I guess I took a wrong turn."

"I guess you did," he replied coldly.

Without warning, Ginny's embarrassment vanished. In its place was something much more sinister.

"It's all your fault," she whispered.

Steel eyes rolled, "What are you going on about?"

Ginny stepped backwards, pressing her back against the wall, "It's all your fault. They chose you over other people that were so much worthier of their trust. I never did understand it. Harry and Hermione selected a team to personally fight Voldemort and his inner circle, and you were among them, but Ron wasn't. You were always the good little Slytherin, and I never could understand why."

He sighed, "I don't know why. They never explained it to me, and I don't have time to listen to your petty jealousy. If you want to know why I was included in the brigade, then talk to the leaders. They're the only ones that can answer your questions."

She watched him darkly as he sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't look at her, and she took the opportunity to examine him.

His platinum hair seemed darker somehow, and it wasn't slicked back the way she always remembered it being. It fell loose around his shoulders, the locks more gold than champagne. Even his eyes, once a silver grey, were darker. She finally reached her conclusion as she took in the way his shoulders fell, and the way he didn't hold his chin up the way he used to.

Draco Malfoy looked far older than he was.

He didn't carry that aura of internal peace that his colleagues did. Ginny idly wondered if something had happened during the Battle of Hogwarts, something that had scarred him. Something had, she knew. After all, she had seen the scar. It looked a little like Harry's, but thicker and longer. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts of the marred flesh stretching from his shoulder to his waist. She didn't want to think about it, but a part of her pointed out that maybe that was why she had been excluded from the brigade. Harry and Hermione were always looking out for the Weasley family, but the twins had been included in the group.

So that still left the question of why the two youngest redheads, the two closest to the war heroes, had been excluded.

"You don't get it do you?"

It took a few moments for his voice, dark and almost too low to hear, to register in her mind.

She glanced up sharply, "What do you mean?"

Draco sighed and cradled his head in his hands, "I can't make you understand it, but I might be able to explain a few things. I don't know why they chose the people that they did, but they made their decision and it turned out for the best. Yes, we lost a few lives, but it would have been a lot more if it had been anyone else. Most of the ones who died were killed because they were protecting someone else. Fred took a curse for George; Padma took a dagger, courtesy of Bellatrix, in Paravati's place. Remus gave his life protecting Tonks, and she gave hers for Neville. It was a vicious cycle, and one we all expected. When we were asked to join, we were told that we had to be ready to go against everything. In the end, they hadn't been lying. If I told you a quarter of the things we did, your ears would rot. It was all out war for us, your end got the easier opponents. We went up against the inner circle, the most highly trained group serving under Tom."

If Ginny was surprised by his casual use of the Dark Lord's given name, which she was, she didn't show it. In fact, she shrugged, "So?"

"I killed my own father, Ginny," he said slowly, "And my mother. I am the one who took the lives of my parents, the people who created me. Can you understand that?"

She tilted her head to the side, pity blooming across her features, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Because you didn't ask," Draco pointed out, "And there was worse. You have no idea of what happened when Neville got his hands on Bellatrix. Or when Remus finally faced Greyback. It was a bloody mess. You couldn't tell who was on what side; the fight was that brutal. An innocent young lady like you had no reason to be in that mêlée."

"Okay, so it wasn't something I should have seen, that doesn't explain a whole lot to me."

"Of course it doesn't, you have to have been there in order to understand it."

She glanced down at the stone floor and asked meekly, "That scar on your chest…"

Watching him with her peripheral vision, she watched his hand come up and touch the top of the scar, at his left shoulder, through the fabric. A part of her, that one little rational part that she had never particularly liked, regretted the unfinished question. It was prying, and prying could be bad.

It could be very, very bad.

His ash colored eyes flickered up to her, "I told you the battle was ruthless."

She flinched at the cutting tone of his voice, "I'm sorry."

The comment had dual meaning, and they both knew it.

"It's nothing really," he explained, "Just an unwanted relic from my duel with my father."

"Why did you leave afterwards?" she asked, getting that itching feeling out of her system. She had wanted to ask him since she found him. She wanted to ask them all, every single member of the Marauders' faculty, why they had left. She quietly added, "You were all heroes. I can understand Harry wanting to escape the spotlight. He hated attention and after killing the Dark Lord he would have received more. But things would have settled down. All of you just made it worse by vanishing like that."

The gleam in his eyes changed from icy coldness to wistful amusement, "First off, we left because we had nothing left. Secondly, Harry isn't the hero you think him to be."

He said it so nonchalantly that she didn't know what to make of it. Instead of saying what she wanted to, another prying question, she took his now-vacant expression as her cue to leave. She muttered a quiet parting and left the room.

Once the door behind her closed, she looked up and jumped.

"Sorry about scaring you, but I felt your conflicting emotions from across the campus."

Ginny relaxed a little as she realized that it was only young Charity standing in the hallway.

She began walking towards the girl, smiling softly, "So you're an empath?"

"Yes, and you're on the wrong floor," the girl stated bluntly. Charity turned and began walking down the hall, leaving Ginny to rush after her.

The two traveled in silence as Charity lead her to a different stairwell—one that moved.

They were still silent as they climbed on and waited for the stairs to shift again.

"I don't understand what you were doing to Professor Malfoy," Charity broke the silence, still stoic and blunt, "But would you please stop? The teachers are very delicate emotionally and mentally. I've sent Professor Lovegood to try and help him. He's on the brink of a breakdown. He always has been from what I can tell."

"I didn't mean to, but you need to understand that I came here for answers."

Charity spun around and hissed, "Stop hurting them!"

"What?" Ginny whispered, stepping down a few steps in shock.

Her hazel eyes were full of various emotions, too many and too dark for any young girl to deal with. Charity took a deep breath and answered, "Your questions, they're hurting the professors. Especially Professor Malfoy and Professor Longbottom. Professor Potter and Headmaster Potter don't need the stress either, nor does Professor Brown. Just stop hurting them. It would be best for everyone if you went away. You've already compromised us all by being exposed to Professor Black and Professor Lupin."

"Why is that dangerous?"

"Because they won't be accepted by your society," she explained, "Think about it. Professor Lupin is a werewolf and the daughter of a man with a lot of enemies. Professor Black is in an even worse position; she is the daughter of the man that many still consider to have been insane. This place saved them all; it's their sanctuary just as much as it is ours. Please Miss Weasley, don't ruin this."

Ginny was silent for a moment, "They ruined a lot of things for me," she whispered.

Charity sighed, "I understand, but right now they have much more to lose than you do. Please, don't bother them."

"Are you just upset that I lashed out at Draco?"

"No, I'm upset because you placed the blame with someone who didn't deserve it."

The stairwell shuddered to life, and Ginny grabbed the railing to keep from toppling over.

"Charity," she called softly, "Draco, and even Harry himself, have said that Harry isn't the hero everyone believes him to be. Do you know what that means?"

The young girl simply took off, leaving the redhead to scramble after her. The halls were dark and somewhat gloomy, but that may have been Ginny's mood at the moment. Charity stopped in front of a door and held it open for the delegate.

"Don't pry into it," she remarked, "I don't know much, but I can tell you that they aren't as innocent as you think they are. Based on some of their emotions, I'd say they've done a lot of lying over the years. If I were you, I wouldn't take anything they say to be the truth if it relates to the war. There are some things that shouldn't see the light of day, and the professors definitely have some skeletons in their closet."

"You're rather perceptive."

The young girl shrugged, "I'm an empath, it comes with the territory."

Without another word, Charity turned and vanished.

Ginny sighed, "I hate kids. They're too confusing. One minute they're the sweetest thing on the planet and the next they're stoic and giving you more riddles than you need."

* * *

Elsewhere on the campus, Ronald Weasley was walking back to his own room. The meeting with the Professors Black and Lupin had gone better than anticipated. They had answered all of his questions and had even asked a few of their own. When they had parted, it had been on good terms.

"Hello Ronald."

Ron, who had been slouching a little bit, straightened immediately. It had been almost a decade, but he recognized that dreamy voice.

He turned around to face the pale woman, lit by moonlight, "Hello Luna."

"Your sister caused a small problem earlier tonight."

"Oh?"

She took a step closer, "Yes, she confronted our favorite blonde Potions Master."

"Ah," he replied.

So Ginny had seen Draco. Ron made a mental note to interrogate her tomorrow morning. Surely the blonde had said something to her that explained a part of this mystery.

"You aren't going to ask me?"

Her voice made him jump out of his reverie, "Ask you what?"

"Why we left," she started, stepping closer, "Why we keep dodging questions. Why we keep trying to get you to leave. Any of that really, I keep expecting you to burst out with all those inquiries that Neville and Lavender shot down. Harry and Hermione refused to answer them too, didn't they?"

He nodded, "Would you actually answer me if I did?"

Luna's response was to shrug dispassionately, "Depends on whether or not the spell interferes."

"What spell?"

"Surely you noticed," she commented, "That choking effect that Hermione was dealing with. I don't think Neville would have had a problem with it, but I could be wrong about that. George probably had some difficulty with it, but it's gotten to be so easy to lie to people over the years that most of us completely forget the spell it there."

"You're rambling Luna," he interrupted.

She nodded, "The spell is one that Hermione designed. It's a secrecy spell. Anytime one of us talks about something that we're not supposed to be, the spell activates and we choke on the words. It's completely harmless, but it was really hard to deal with in the beginning, so she had to go back and revise it. Now we can speak to each other openly, but we can't to outsiders like you and your sister."

Ron sighed, "Why did you leave?"

"As Draco told Ginny, we had nothing left. We would be lepers once the truth was found out, and we all knew that no one would believe us if we tried to tell them the truth so soon after the battle. We left for our own safety as much as we did for the rest of the magical community. All hell would have broken loose for a second time if we had stayed."

"Why set up the school?"

"We were horrified at what had happened to Muggle-borns during the war, we wanted a place where Muggle parents would feel was safe enough to send their magical children. Considering what happened with Hogwarts, we found a lot of Muggle parents didn't want their children anywhere near that place," she shrugged again, "So we set up this place."

"Isn't that a little elitist of you?" he pointed out, "After all, you and quite a few of the other professors are purebloods. What's with the separation ideology? I thought the motto for the war was that we needed to stand together or we would fail."

Luna laughed lightly, "That's what Kris said. She's from the Black family though, but still, she managed to talk Harry and Hermione into allowing purebloods attend the school."

"When? I don't see any."

"In five years," she answered quickly, "Things are still a little rocky between the Muggle-borns and the purebloods so we're going to wait about five years for things to settle down a little more. We're planning on integrating half-bloods and purebloods with magical backgrounds at that time."

He nodded, "Sounds reasonable."

"And you're wrong," she continued, "A little known fact is that Charity Donovan is in fact a pureblood. She was orphaned at a young age and was adopted by a Muggle couple. So, Ronald dear, don't tell me that there aren't any purebloods attending this school."

"You've changed," he whispered.

"I had to," Luna responded, "Any other questions?"

"Why are you trying to get Ginny and me to leave?"

She laughed, "I figured that one would be coming up soon. It's like the dawn and the twilight, you can never escape them."

Ron took a step forward, "Just answer the question Luna."

Her blue eyes were steely in the moonlight and she was frowning. Luna sighed, "It's because we have skeletons in the closet. Some of them are still breathing, and others are still covered in blood. They haunt us daily and we're afraid that you, and possibly Ginny, will open that door and let the world see our transgressions. You two are relics from a past that none of us really want to forget. Hogwarts is a ghost that haunts us, that keeps its wraith-like fingers wrapped around our throats, slowly choking the life out of us. We are damned in the worst way. We lied to the world and we would be condemned if the world knew what it was we're hiding. Please Ronald, just let it go."

He took another step forward and watched Luna do the same. The moonlight hit her perfectly, and he finally got a good look at the twenty-three-year-old Luna Lovegood.

She was a little bit taller, but still quite a bit shorter than he was. That classic blonde hair, almost white, fell down in gentle waves to her waist. Her blue eyes seemed darker, and they didn't glow with life the way they used to. Her mouth, almost perpetually in a small smile, was turned down in a frown. Her skin, once flushed with life, was ashen. She was a little too thin, and her shoulders slumped in a way that reminded Ron of someone who had just lost everything. Luna Lovegood did not look twenty-three. She looked like she had seen eternity, but a part of him thought that that was simply the bane of psychics.

She didn't look like someone who had found peace, not like George or Neville. Even Lavender had looked happier than Luna.

Ron sighed, "What happened Luna?"

She seemed to choke. She took a deep breath and answered, "I can't tell you that."

"Can't, or won't?"  
She laughed bitterly, "What's the difference?"

He watched as Luna turned and left, her delicate voice humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like 'Weasley is Our King'. Ron was left alone in the corridor, alit with moonlight and listening to the solemn dirge of the rain assaulting the outside of the building. He sighed and turned towards his own room, reminiscing to the nocturne of the night's tears.

* * *

A/N: Wow, this was hard to write.

My thank you list: **hpfananita, eskaybe1, Chibi-Penguin-Chan, faithfullyyours13, delusionalmilitant** (I have your story finished, I just need to send it back to you. Finals week is over, so I should have it back to you in a couple of days), **fyrekrotch, SpeedDemon315, sweetgirl23, Clell65619, theghostchic, Ravenwood240, wasu, HHRbelong2gether, Fuuton.Rasen.Shuriken, eaglesfreak17, mafercita, kittydemon18, Harrylover8592, Secretiveseeker, Anonymous, immortal7, **and** pstibbons**.

_Until next time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	7. Chapter Six: Blue Paint

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Six_

_Blue Paint_

* * *

The brush stroked gently across the canvas. It left behind a comet's tail of silver, and upon backing away; one could see that it was simply another feather of a thunderbird's wing.

The brush made another caress before the caramel hand holding it came to a stop.

"I was wondering when you'd come to find me."

"Did Altair reach you all right?"

Dean Thomas turned around, "Yeah. He seemed to be in a rush. He startled a few students when he came swooping in."

Harry nodded, "At least he got there okay."

The other Gryffindor alum laughed, "Worried?"

"He's a new owl," he shrugged, "He doesn't know everyone the way Hedwig did."

"Hedwig has been dead for almost eight years," the art professor clarified, "And you've only recently gotten a new owl. Just shut up and enjoy the freedom from casting messenger spells every five seconds."

"I don't want to hear it Dean."

"So it's Ron and Ginny?" Dean asked, setting the brush and paint down, "What are you going to do fearless leader?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He pushed away from the doorframe and made his way over to the bemused artist where he pulled a spare chair, one that wasn't covered in art supplies, across from his colleague.

"I don't know," he replied, "I don't know if it's a good idea for them to stay though. I'm thinking that I might want to send Minerva a letter and tell her that they need to go and she needs to send someone else as the delegate if she really wants to learn about the school. Ron and Ginny are bringing up too many questions that are threatening everything."

"You mean the fact that we have broken the law?"

Harry glared, "Kingsley sorted all of that out. It was a wartime exemption. We're safe in that department. It's the other thing."

"Ah," Dean commented, "You mean the fact that you're not the little hero that everyone thinks you are."

"Right."

"And the fact that Lavender isn't the only one expecting?"

"They already know that Hermione and I are married," he answered, "To be honest, I'm surprised they haven't asked about children yet."

Dean nodded, "Right, so what Paravati was telling me when I got here meant nothing."

"What did she say?"

"That you've been avoiding them, as Hermione has been. They're your friends Harry, just talk to them."

"We did," Harry explained, "But they didn't ask the right questions and we only gave the information that was asked for."

The art professor shook his head, "That's not how it works Harry. You need to sit down and really speak with them. They're talking to everyone else about the war, and sooner or later they're going to figure out what happened. Who knows, I think Draco may have bought you some time. Paravati did say that Ginny had confronted him and apparently he did manage to say some stuff that should have told her that she may not want to know the truth."

"And Ron?" Harry shot back, "Luna confronted him, and according to her he's not backing down. Ron's stubborn and he won't give in, even if he knows the result is going to be something he really doesn't want."

"So the question is," Dean began, "Are you going to let him uncover our nasty little secrets or not?"

The young headmaster ran a hand through his dark hair, "I don't know. I keep changing my mind. When they arrived, Hermione and I were all for letting them find out. It's been seven years; they have the right to know."

"And now?"

"Now, after talking to them, I don't want them to know. They're so innocent. I think it would be for the best if they just got away from here, from us, before we taint them. They don't deserve to be as jaded as we are."

Dean sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knee, "I think you need to call another meeting. Everyone needs to present and we need to take a vote on this."

Harry repeated the movement that he had always associated with his father as he ran a hand through his messy hair once more. He sighed heavily and mulled over his options. Without warning, he laughed, "This is why I like talking to you Dean. You're level headed in a way that I never have been."

"I thought that was why you married Hermione."

"She's pregnant Dean. A pregnant Hermione is not something you bring up tough topics like this with."

"She is a little moody, isn't she?"

"You have no idea."

Dean burst out in laughter, his mirth taking over, "You're right. When there aren't any students around she can be a little catty, can't she? Still, she's a big part of this."

"Ron's forgiven her."

"Then it's your turn to talk to him."

Harry sighed again, "I know, but I'd like to get that vote in first."

Dean, who had pulled out sheets of paper and was busy writing and folding them, started handing them to Harry, "Then send out the message."

The founder smiled and said the incantation, watching as the paper cranes took off, "You know, I think we've made at least a thousand of those."

"I've still got mine."

"I've got mine, and Hermione has hers," Harry continued, "And I know that the rest of the faculty kept theirs."

"Maybe we could get them together and make a wish."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, a wish that we survive the fallout."

Dean hissed in mock pain, "You don't really think that it's going to be that bad, do you?"

The headmaster fixed him with a stare and prepared to answer, but a voice from the door cut him off.

"So this is where the two of you have been hiding."

Harry turned around as Dean looked to the entrance. The headmaster sighed and greeted, "Hello Ginny."

"Gin," the artist acknowledged.

The redhead glanced at the green-eyed man first, "Harry, could I speak with you?"

He shook his head and stood up, "I'm sorry Ginny, but I'm late for a meeting."

"Okay."

He vanished through the door, and she was left with the artist. Dean smiled softly, "It's good to see you again Gin."

"I thought you hated me."

He sighed and picked up his paint and brush again, turning back to the canvas, "I was young and stupid. I thought I loved you and when you left me, I, idiotically, became jealous. I know I was wrong."

She flopped into the chair that had been occupied by her other ex just moments ago, "I'm the idiot."

"For dumping me?"

"For being idealistic."

"You led a sheltered life," he consoled, "It's to be expected."

"Thanks," she deadpanned, "That's a real help Dean."

He shrugged, "C'est la vie ma amie." (1)

"I hate French," she muttered darkly. Her brown eyes fixed on his form as she asked, "So Dean, how have you been?"

"Okay, all things considered," he answered shortly, "I survived the war, I've got a great job that I absolutely love, I've got a great group of friends, and I'm me. What's wrong with that?"

She examined his back carefully, "Nothing, except the fact that you're keeping something from me."

The brush made another stroke, "Maybe, maybe not."

"Just give me a straight answer Dean. When I'm told off by an eleven-year-old, I want to know what it is that I've done wrong."

"Didn't Charity tell you?"

"How do you know it was her?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, "She's the only student here that would do that. Something about being an empath makes her blunt. You were friends with Luna; you ought to know what her powers did to her personality. It's the same concept."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "She did tell me what I was doing wrong, but I want to hear it from a professor that isn't running away from me."

Dean froze for a moment. Harry he understood, Hermione too. Those two had a history with Ginny that neither wanted to remember. But the others had no reason to avoid her.

Unless she had done something to really disturb Draco.

He knew that she had asked a few questions, but Paravati had been a little vague about the exact events.

"What did you say Gin?" he muttered as he set down his art supplies once again and spun around to face her, "You had to have done something to make them warier than they originally were."

She shrugged, "I spoke to Malfoy last night."

Dean frowned, "His name is Draco."

She sighed. She hadn't been anticipating Dean to be so defensive about the blonde.

Something clicked in her memory. Draco. Dean wanted her to call him Draco. And…Draco…had been unusually polite last night. He had referred to his colleagues by their given names, rather than their surnames. She stiffened as she realized that she had noticed it, as she had referred to him by his forename when speaking to Charity. She shook her head.

"I saw the scar."

Dean's frown deepened. The scar. That wasn't something that she needed to know about. Draco was fairly defensive about it, and he wondered what the situation was that the redhead before him had been allowed a glimpse. Dean had only seen it because he had been in the next bed in the hospital wing at Marauders'. He had watched Andromeda and Hermione take care of the wretched wound the blonde Potions Master had been given by his sire.

It was a wicked injury, and one Draco really didn't like to think about.

"Dean?"

Ginny's voice derailed his train of thought and he straightened in his seat, "Yeah?"

She sighed, "I don't know what your problem is, but you keep spacing out on me."

"Sorry," he explained, "Just a lot on my mind. Lesson plans and whatnot."

She nodded slowly, "Right."

"So where were we?"

Her doe like eyes fixed on the painting over his shoulder, "You could tell me why you left."

"Haven't you spoken to the others about that?" he inquired, "I was under the impression that you had already asked the others."

"I have, but they're all vague about it. I want someone to give me a clear answer."

He frowned, "Draco is probably the most forthright one here, and he doesn't have a problem with the secrecy spell. Any answer he gave you is better than what the rest of us can give."

"What secrecy spell?" she demanded.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, "You didn't know," he whispered.

He was mentally cursing himself for his foolish assumptions. Just because Luna had explained everything to the elder delegate didn't mean that he had passed the information along to his younger sister.

"What spell?"

Her voice, he noticed, had dropped to a dangerous tone. It was one that he was quite familiar with. It was the voice that promised a rather nasty hex to anyone that crossed her.

He sighed, "It's a spell that keeps us from speaking to outsiders about the Last Battle. If you had stayed quiet, but still at the door, then Harry would have ended up choking on the words he was about to say."

"Why?"

"Because what he was about to say is part of what's protected by the spell. You're an outsider, so you are blocked by the spell."

She nodded, "So that's what Ron was mumbling about when he finally came back from his meeting with the Professors Black and Lupin."

"Ah, you met the trouble cousins."

"They're trouble?"

Dean smiled, "Only to people they don't like."

"You know," she laughed, "When I first saw them; I thought that it was Sirius and Remus. I honestly thought that those two had returned from the grave, and with everything I've seen here, I would have readily believed that."

"Nope," he responded, "It's just their daughters."

Ginny glanced carefully at the lackadaisical artist sitting before her. He had changed in much the same way Neville had. He was taller, and there was more muscle in places she didn't remember there being. His skin was the same caramel she remembered, but it seemed to glow with that annoying peace. He really was happy.

Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the thunderbird soaring across the canvas. She smiled softly and reached around him. He stiffened as her hand picked up a spare paintbrush and dipped it into a small amount of blue paint.

She let the brush sweep across the bird's wings in a few places. After a few moments, she sat back in her chair and handed the brush to Dean.

"There, now it looks right."

He glanced at her changes, and found that she was right. She had added shadows to the wings, and the bird looked like it was about to take off from the twilight sky it ascended through.

Dean laughed lightly, "You always did have an eye for color."

* * *

Harry Potter swept down the corridor of the second story, his green eyes travelling to the courtyard below. Within his sight was a young girl with sandy hair, her head bent over a book as an older woman with cinnamon curls sat beside her, explaining some line.

He smiled and turned around, his feet leading him to that spot.

"So," Charity began, "Were there any real witches or wizards caught during the Salem Witch Trials?"

Hermione laughed, "No, thank goodness. I hate to think about what would have happened if any were caught."

"Bat bogey hexes all around," the headmaster interrupted.

"What's that?"

The brunette woman rolled her eyes at her husband's comment and explained to the student, "A bat bogey hex is a wicked little spell. The Hogwarts delegate, Miss Weasley, is very adept at casting them."

Harry groaned as he took a seat next to Charity, "You have no idea Mia dear. Ginny was a right monster with bat bogeys on the mind."

"She's a monster without it."

"Miss Donovan!" Hermione hissed, "That's not something you should be saying about a person."

The headmaster chuckled, "Even if it is true?"

His smile grew as he watched his wife blush.

A bell rang through the courtyard and young Charity quickly gave her professors a farewell before she raced off to her next class. The two left behind watched her quietly for a few moments.

"What are you thinking about, love?" he asked, his eyes never turning to her.

She smiled softly, "I sometimes wonder if, assuming we ever have a daughter, she'll be like Charity."

He glanced over at her, his eyes giving the impression that he thought she was insane, "You want a psychic for a daughter?"

"Harry!" she scolded, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

His laugh drifted through the courtyard, "I know, love."

"So what did Dean have to say?" she asked, her expression darkening as her smile faded, "I got the summons for the meeting. Did something happen?"

He sighed, "Possibly. We need to decide if we're going to request different delegates."

"We're meeting to discuss whether or not we're going to cancel the secrecy spell," her voice was monotonous in a way that was slightly irritating to someone used to hearing more life in her words.

"Pretty much," he relented.

She swore, "This is insanity. Why can't we just make up our minds?"  
Green met brown as he asked, "What do you think we should do? I seem to remember you wanting them to know."

"You ought to know better than to listen to me right now," she mumbled, "So what do you want to happen?"

"You never answered my question."

She turned her attention to the students filing by the windows of the second story, "I want them to leave. For a while I thought it would be for the best if they stayed and learned the truth, but now I think it would just be for the best if they went away. We were doing just fine until they showed up, and now everyone's on the edge. Dean seems to be the only one escaping this without any stress."

"That's because nothing can disturb him. He takes everything in stride."

"It's annoying, isn't it?"

He laughed, "Yeah, it kind of is. But we need to be serious. This can be solved two ways, and the faculty needs to come to a consensus before they figure things out on their own."

"You don't think Ginny could…" she trailed off, but he knew where she had been headed with the question.

He shook his head, "No, but Ron could. He always has been too smart for his own good. He'll figure things out."

Hermione sighed, "Just keep the sword and the Hallows hidden and we shouldn't have a problem. Ron never knew that we actually found them, or that they even exist. Let's just lock down all of the stuff we have that could give it all away and keep the spell in tact. They're here to learn about the school, so why don't we let them do just that?"

"We're still taking the vote Mia."

* * *

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Harry sighed heavily, "That's six to six."

Andromeda shrugged, "Maybe we should call Kinsley, he can be the tie-breaker."

A muttering of agreement went around the table as the faculty agreed. Harry nodded and stepped out of the room. Five minutes later, he was back.

"Well?" Draco demanded.

The young headmaster held his head high and announced, "Kinsley voted yes, but with limitations. Ron and Ginny Weasley have to figure out what happened on their own, and the spell is to stay in effect. We can only give them information if they specifically ask for it and as I said only if the spell will allow it. They have until the first of January to uncover the truth. If they do not meet this deadline, then they are to leave Marauders' without knowing and the rest of the world is to stay in the dark as well. In the meantime, they're to do what they came here for."

George nodded, "So we let them learn about the school and let them uncover all our nasty little secrets in their spare time."

"Pretty much."

Dean sighed, "I voted yes, but I really think this needs some blue paint."

Luna stared at him, "I'm psychic and I'm strange, but even that was too weird for me."

Her comment made the artist laugh along with everyone else.

"I know it seems odd," he clarified, "But it does to me."

"Then elaborate."

"Basically what it means is that there light points to this, but we can never forget the shadows, and we can't let them forget it either. A bird can't fly on simply light. It's not real if there is no dark. It's not real if it's all dark and no light either. We have to remember both sides and make sure that, should Ron and Ginny figure out the truth, they don't forget that there are two sides as well."

"That is the smartest thing you've ever said Thomas," Draco replied.

* * *

A/N: And this chapter is DONE.

(1) "That's life my (female) friend."

My thank you list: **talapadme, bruddy101, Cibbler, delusionalmilitant, deitarion/SSokolow, Secret world, pstibbons, Jade St. Jms, Clell65619, sweetgirl23, mafercita, goblueguy, eaglesfreak17, WhiteTiger1992, **and** immortal7**.

_Until next time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	8. Chapter Seven: Nights of Snowfall

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Seven _

_Nights of Snowfall_

* * *

Charity Donovan's eyes fluttered open as the sky was just beginning to come alive with flames behind a screen of silver. The entire school was chilly, but one glance out the window, at the untouched white blanket that covered the world, told her why. It had snowed last night, and something was terribly amiss.

She flung the sheets away from the bed, wrapping her robe around her and slipping into her slippers in a manner that could only be defined as robotic. Without a sound she tied up her hair and pulled on her glasses, moving like a ghost towards the door.

She was only vaguely aware of her roommates calling her name, but she was already flying down the corridors. Something was very, very wrong, and she had to know what it was. She could feel it coming from town, but it was directed at the headmaster's office. Being the protective personality that she was, she went rushing towards the office in hopes of discovering the source of the emotions.

They were powerful. Full of despair and self-hate, they made her want to curl up and cry. Emotions like that always were the hardest to tolerate. They caused physical pain, and she could already feel the crushing feeling in her chest.

She could also feel those burning, icy fingers of guilt digging into her heart.

She hated being an empath sometimes, and it just happened to be one of those mornings.

She rounded a corner and crashed into a taller body. She apologized, but was anxious to continue on her way. Charity quickly righted herself and turned to find a smiling Luna sitting on the floor. The younger psychic noted that the expression didn't reach her professor's blue eyes.

She gave a small, tentative, smile in return, "If you're headed in this direction, then I must be going the right way."

Luna laughed a little, "I'm glad your abilities have increased enough to detect direction, but that blast would have alerted any empath within fifty kilometers."

The young student nodded, and let Professor Lovegood drag her the rest of the way. When they stopped, they were standing outside of Headmaster Potter's office. Charity threw a worried look at her teacher, but Luna had her head held high as she briskly knocked on the door.

Harry cracked open the door and immediately caught sight of the duo's concerned expressions. His eyes darkened and he pulled them into his office without a word.

Charity, who had never been inside the headmaster's office, momentarily forgot her originally purpose, her hazel eyes travelling across the walls. There were bookshelves everywhere, and each and every one of them was packed with some old tome. Portraits were dozing in a couple of places, and there were pictures that didn't move in places as well. What caught her eye the most, though, was the small golden orb inside a glass box on the mantle behind Harry's desk.

There were wings attached to it, and small engravings covered the entire thing. She shivered slightly at the emotions radiating off that thing. She could feel joy and pride, but she could also feel sorrow, terror, and hatred. The effect was uplifting, dismal and horrifying at the same time. Images of people, like echoes of their former selves, flashed across her mind as she cautiously stepped closer. She decided, somewhere in her mind, that she was both entranced and repulsed by the thing.

Headmaster Potter apparently caught her looking at it, for he leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "That's a snitch. It's used in the wizard game Quidditch. But that is a very special snitch."

"Why?" she asked, just as quietly.

"Because that is the first snitch I ever caught," he said. She turned to find him smiling, his famous emerald eyes bright with happy reminiscing, "I almost choked on it because I caught it in my mouth. It was a complete accident, but it made for a memorable first game."

She laughed nervously as her attention wavered to her blonde professor. Again, he followed her gaze.

"So," he began, "What can I help you with this morning?"

Luna slumped, defeated, and began to explain. The entire time, Charity felt drawn to that little golden ball filled with ambiguity.

* * *

"So what do you really think of all this?"

George looked up from his breakfast to find Parvati (1) standing above him, her dark eyes focused on his as he sat eating in the window sill of the conference room. He moved his feet and motioned for her to sit down. She did, and repeated her question.

He shrugged in response, "Depends on what you're asking my opinion for."

"Ron and Ginny," she sighed, "They're your family, surely you have something to say about them knowing what really happened."

"I voted against it, remember?"

She laughed lightly, "I do, but I want to know why you don't want them to know."

"Because it isn't their place. They're my younger siblings and I don't want them to be sucked into all of this," he set his plate aside and continued explaining, "And then there's the big question. If, by some stroke of ill fate, they do figure this out, what happens then? Do we let them tell the entire world or do we force them to endure this secrecy spell with the rest of us?"

Parvati nodded as she ran a dark hand through her hair. She leaned her forehead against the window and began, "I understand where you're coming from, but I'm sick of the secrecy. There is a trail, and when we're all gone, someone is going to find out the truth. I would rather face the consequences than risk my legacy being tarnished because I kept a secret and wasn't there to defend myself when it came into the light."

He nodded solemnly, "It's a big question."

"So is something else, but you seem to be too much of a coward to ask it, so why are you so willing to discuss this one?"

"Patil," he warned, "Don't start that again."

"Start what again? The fact still remains," she opened her mouth to continue, but found herself choking on her words. She coughed and recovered, her attention flickering to the door.

"It's just Ginny," George whispered, "She's standing by the door. I don't think she's listening, but she is within earshot."

She glared, "And _that_ is protected? Why?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "It took place in the days leading up the Battle of Hogwarts; remember that we restricted all of that knowledge."

"George?" Ginny's muffled voice came through the door.

Parvati scowled as her companion answered his brother's call.

"I understand why you left us, losing Fred must have hurt like hell," Parvati had to lay a hand on George's arm to keep him calm at the sound of his twin's name. Ginny continued, "But what about Alicia? You know Mum always wanted you to marry her."

The elder Weasley was silent. Ginny, from the sound of things, was met by one of the other professors and he walked away.

Parvati simply sat there before she licked her lips. Nodding she stood up stiffly, "Right, Alicia Spinnet. How could I forget?"

"I forgot about her too," George answered blankly, "To be honest, I really don't care anymore. Mum had unbelievable hopes for reclaiming the family honor, but some of them were just wistful wishes. They all involved marriages that she really wanted to happen. Any idiot with half a brain could have told her that most of them were impossible."

"Like what?"

"Like Harry marrying Ginny, and Ron marrying Hermione," he began, his eyes fixed on the far wall, "She wanted those matches so badly, but any of us could have told her that it would never happen. And then there was Bill. She was against Fleur in the beginning, but after a while she agreed. That was after she found out that Fleur has some royal blood in her veins. Mum's a good heart, she really is, and she's just idealistic in a way that isn't healthy."

The divination professor resumed her seat, "What about you and Fred?"

He laughed shortly, "She wanted me to marry Alicia, and she really wanted Fred to marry Angelina."

"But you didn't want to?"

"Not really," he explained, "I was never really into marriage before the war. After it there was no way I could even speak to Alicia. She reminded me too much of Fred. She tried to talk to me during my stay at the Burrow, but she gave up after the first year and a half."

"Like my parents," she mumbled.

"Come again?"

Parvati sighed, "My parents. After Padma died I couldn't stand to see them and I knew they wouldn't be able to stand me, so that's why I accepted so quickly when Harry and Hermione asked me to join this endeavor after the battle."

"We're a right mess, aren't we?"

She glanced towards the door and muttered a small spell, satisfied with the results, she turned back to George, "Can we continue our previous conversation now?"

"You really are persistent aren't you?"

She grinned cheekily, "I'm a twin, and you ought to know what it's like, growing up amidst mischief."

"Maybe that's why we get along so well," he contemplated, "We're both twins. We both lost our other half during the battle and now we need something to fill that chasm."

"And we found each other," she prodded, "Please tell me you think that too. I'm sick of being the only one who even thinks about what happened."

"You're not," he replied shortly, "Trust me on this."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"Because I don't know what to say," George hissed, "I've never had to deal with women before you. I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

Her eyes were sorrowful for a moment before she responded, "Sometimes it's better to say nothing. After all, actions speak louder than words."

* * *

"Please open your books to chapter four," Luna announced at the front of the classroom, "It is about the alchemic legend of transforming lead into gold. None of you are to actually try it, but Professor Potter expects a two or three page essay about your views on it when she returns. You are to use examples from the text to support your ideas. Now begin!"

Ginny sat at the back of the room, observing the Charms professor filling in for the MIA Transfiguration teacher. As Luna walked back to where the redhead sat, Ginny smiled.

"For someone that doesn't teach this class, you did a good job."

Luna shrugged, "It's still teaching, just a different subject."

"Can I ask you something?"

The Marauders' employee stiffened, her blue eye flashing dangerously, "It depends on what you ask."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Why is Hermione missing? She doesn't strike me as someone who would disappear without warning."

"Health issues," Luna responded shortly, "She's not exactly in good shape right now."

"Is she okay?"

The blonde shrugged, "She'll be fine. This isn't something she's unfamiliar with."

Ginny nodded and let her gaze roam over the children sitting in the room. Dorms, she knew, were inhabited by three students per room, and each room sat together in classes in their first four years of school. Her brown eyes landed on the far table at the front of the room where two girls sat together. One was tall, her dark blonde hair pulled away from her face by a green ribbon that matched her jumper. Next to her was another girl in a Lily uniform, her jumper having been discarded, leaving her black hair to fall on the shoulders of the white shirt beneath.

The delegate nodded towards them, "Where's their third?"

"Who?" Luna turned to followed Ginny's gaze. She pursed her lips when she saw the group, "The blonde is Saskia Bergfalk and the other one is Azzurra Aquati. They're Charity Donovan's roommates."

"And where's Charity?"

Luna shrugged, "Busy. She had something else she had to do today."

"That's not an answer," Ginny hissed.

The comment earned her an icy glare and a hissed, "She's busy."

The Weasley shrugged and assumed it had to do with the girl's sixth sense.

"Will you tell me something?"

"I believe you asked something to that effect earlier, my answer to that one is adequate for this one as well."

"You used to be so infatuated with Ron," the redhead whispered, a sly grin slipping into place across her mouth, "So tell me this: are you still interested in him?"

Luna sat up straight, her blue eyes wide with bewilderment, "How can you ask that?"

Ginny just smirked, "I'm curious. I'm about to start asking the boring stuff about the school, so I want to know this little tidbit before I forget about it. Ron told me he'd spoken to you, and apparently you gave him a rather rude awakening."

"One that Draco, or even Dean, was supposed to have given you," Luna responded sharply under her breath, "Ron is not the man I left behind all of those years ago, and don't you dare tell me that it was Hermione, and not me, that left him behind. I left him just as much as the next professor here. I don't know what I think of him."

The answer seemed to satisfy the Weasley, as her next question was, "So how does the curriculum work? Do you have a set schedule for every day or do you have a block schedule like we have at Hogwarts?"

"It's a block. Each class is divided into six groups of three," the Charms professor explained, her countenance much more relaxed, "Three of the groups are in a schedule of double transfiguration on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Those days they also have potions, magical history, double DADA, lunch, arithmancy, herbology, magical politics, flying lessons, and a two hour independent study in the library with Andromeda. On Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday that group has double charms, art, divination, double DADA, lunch, wizard studies, magical history, flying lessons, and a two hour independent study."

"And the other group?"

"Is the exact opposite."

Ginny tilted her head to the side in curiosity, "When do they eat breakfast and dinner?"

Luna smiled, "Classes start at eight in the morning, so breakfast is served at any time from seven to eight. Dinner can be taken at any time during the independent study time. The day ends at nine o'clock in the evening and students, unless out for a school functions, are expected to be in their houses by nine and in bed by ten. Curfew will change as they get older, but they will always be expected to be in their house by nine unless they have permission."

"What do you do about discipline?"

"Teacher's discretion for the most part," Luna answered casually, "Because of everything we saw and did during the war we don't like to hurt people, so we try to be kind but firm with punishments. So far we haven't had any problems, but we all think that Hermione's prepared method will be the most successful."

Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise, "And what is that?"

"A three foot essay written on parchment, with a quill, about what is acceptable behavior in proper society and what isn't."

"That would stop me from doing something again," she muttered to herself. She brightened up instantly and asked, "Why so much flying, history, and DADA?"

"Because those are the topics that saved our lives during the war," was the only response Luna gave.

* * *

Across the classroom, another hushed conversation was taking place. Azzurra Aquati, the raven-haired girl pointed out by the substitute and the visitor, subtly nudged her friend with an elbow.

"Where's Coco?"

"I don't know," Saskia hissed, "I thought it was your turn to keep track of all her psychic escapades."

Azzurra gave her friend a confused look, "You make that sound like something bad Kiki."

"Must your mind immediately go to the gutter Zuzu?"

She shrugged, "Possibly. Remember that I grew up with six brothers; it's something you pick up. But no, it was your turn, remember? I had to watch her last week because you had promised Professor Brown that you would help with the threstals. That's two weeks in a row for me; it's supposed to be you this time."

The blonde glared darkly at her friend, "She ran out of our room in her nightclothes like a possessed thing. I have no idea where she went and she wouldn't stop to answer any of our questions. How am I supposed to keep track of her?"

Azzurra slammed her forehead on the table, earning her several strange looks from the various students around her. She turned the full force of her dark eyes on a couple of boys wearing the white blazers of Moony and Saskia smiled when the two cringed away from the miffed girl.

"Zuzu, stop scaring the innocents," Saskia scolded quietly. She was trying to look stern, but her attempts failed miserably as the smile spread over her features. She hid it, rather unsuccessfully, but focusing on her textbook.

The smaller of the two turned her glare of the blonde, "I don't scare you, do I?"

"No, but I share a room with you. After the first night with you and Coco, I learned to deal with it."

"I'm worried about her."

Saskia stopped reading, her blue eyes flickering over to her friend and roommate. She knew how Azzurra felt. Charity was someone easy to befriend, her empathy made her rather sociable. She was blunt and sometimes harsh, but most of the time she was just a very understanding friend. She was a sister, but Saskia thought that stemmed from losing her twin at such a young age.

After all, those who knew what it meant to be alone can't help loving others.

Saskia had found that out rather quickly. Azzurra, who came from a large Italian family, had told the story of her mother's death when she was a young child. Saskia, who had never lost a close relative, had had difficulty understanding what that was like. But then Charity had shown up. The empath with the lost twin had turned everything upside-down. The empath had been a victim of the wizard war that they had been told about on their first day, but Saskia still hadn't understood at that point. She was from a nice German family; one without any problems, one that didn't suffer the way Charity's and Azzurra's had. It wasn't until Charity had described the pain in such vivid detail, the way only a psychic can, had changed everything.

Saskia sighed, her eyes closing as sadness took over her features, "I'm worried about her too."

* * *

A/N: This chapter was really all over the place, but it is, sadly, a transition chapter. After this, Ron and Ginny seriously begin finding out what happened, and there will be more Harry and Hermione in the coming chapters. I just have to find a way to give everyone their time, because Luna, Draco, and Neville become major characters after this.

(1)I just realized that I've been misspelling her name since the beginning. It is supposed to be Parvati, not Paravati. This will be amended in previous chapters.

My thank you list: **hpnut1, delusionalmilitant, kittydemon18, mafercita, Wonderbee31, wasu, Doctor G.W Midnight, anglbby989, talapadme, deitarion/Ssokolow, eaglesfreak17, immortal7, WhiteTiger1992, Clell65619, **and** pstibbons.**

_Until next time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	9. Chapter Eight: So They Say

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Eight_

_So They Say_

* * *

"Potions is not an exact science. It is an art."

Ron Weasley watched, amused, as Draco Malfoy stood at the front of the class, lecturing about the one subject that the redhead had hated more than anything. He mused on the fact that if anyone had told him ten years ago that Draco would turn out to be a good guy, Ron likely would have laughed maniacally.

After the first five minutes of sitting in his class were over, Ron had no problem understanding Harry's logic.

Draco was brilliant, but a victim of circumstance. The Weasley figured that if he had grown up with a draconian father and a spineless mother, that he might have had loyalty issues as well. Ginny had told him about the scar, and about the young professor taking the life of his own father. It was dark, but it had been a war.

War was never lighthearted.

"Snape," Draco said, without warning, "How many of you have heard that name before?"

Ron watched, amazed, as several hands went up in the air.

The man standing at the front of the room smiled and pointed to a young man in a crimson blazer, "Mr. Alvey, could you please explain?"

The boy nodded, a lock of brown hair falling into his eyes, "Snape was the name of the Hogwarts headmaster immediately preceding Headmistress McGonagall. He was the resident Potions Master for fifteen years, give or take a year. He has been considered the father of current potions studies."

Ron turned to see Draco carefully appraising the boy. Finally, he sighed, "Why weren't you sorted into Moony?"

The classroom broke out in giggles. Ron had no idea what was going on, but the comment made him think that Moony was like Ravenclaw. He shrugged, and went back to listening to Draco's lecture.

"Mr. Alvey is right, and I can honestly say that I am extremely proud to have had Headmaster Snape was my own potions professor. He was a callous man, but he was good at what he did," the blonde walked around his desk and picked up a worn tome that Ron recognized immediately. He stiffened as Draco held up the book, "This is the only copy of his work. It is a potions textbook identical to your own, but with corrections in the margins. During class I expect you to make the same corrections," he set the book down and watched it fall open. He smiled, "Now, how about we begin with a simple headache potion. Please open your books to page nine."

Ron was pleasantly surprised to find that Draco was a wonderful teacher. He was good with children, he didn't scold them if they did something wrong either. The redhead watched as one boy in a black jacket melted his cauldron. Snape would have made the boy feel useless, but Draco simply gave him a new cauldron and went over the potion with the boy, working to figure out what went wrong.

Still, the fact that Draco Malfoy was good with children was slightly disturbing. If anyone had asked Ron if he had thought that the Slytherin alum would be so great with the world's youth, he would have called the sanitarium.

"Not quite Miss Daughtery," Draco said quietly to a girl in red sitting at the table in front of Ron, "Making a potion is like cooking. There is always room for a substitution, and sometimes that substitution works better than the original. In this, it calls for chamomile as the main ingredient, but with the ingredients that were in your kit, what do you think would work better?"

The brunette tilted her head to the side, carefully evaluating the items in front of her, "Cinnamon and nutmeg."

The blonde man nodded and knelt down to the girl's level, "These are two ingredients that would never be found in a wizard's apothecary. But they are ingredients that you are familiar with, and they work a thousand times better than any wizard's brew. Why do you think that I've given you things to work with that, by my upbringing, are considered to be unorthodox?"

"Well," she mused, "I would think that you're trying to show us that we don't have to abandon everything to be a part of the magical world."

Ron could see Draco smile. The professor stood up and spoke to the entire class, "As most of you have noticed by now, I have given you a recipe for a non-magical brew. Miss Daugherty said that it was because of your non-magical childhoods. You don't have to abandon that part of you to be a part of the magical realm. She is absolutely right, but there is another reason I have done this, can any of you tell me why?"

A boy in the front row raised his hand, his black blazer pulling back enough to reveal a white undershirt. Draco walked up the aisle and nodded at the redhead, "Mr. Vaughan."

"Non-magical people have had to survive for years without magic, so they've had to do things the hard way. Witches and wizards took the easy way out and managed to complicate very simple things by using magic. You're trying to show us that magic isn't always the best way. It might work, but the non-magical way can work just as well with less work involved."

Draco fought back a smile, "You had Professor Potter's class before this one, didn't you?" The boy blushed and nodded. Draco continued, "Mr. Vaughan is right. Magic does complicate things. The recipe that I have given you is an old trick a friend of mine taught me, I've altered it so that, unlike the original, this one actually has a shelf life. That's what the Meriwether is in there for. Can any of you tell me what Meriwether is?"

Ron watched as a lithe girl in the middle of the room answered the question, her black jumper in stark contrast with her platinum hair. The Weasley was having a hard time understanding the school's uniforms. He saw green with khaki, white with grey, red with black, and black with white. He was used to the solid black of Hogwarts, and he certainly missed the robes of a magic school. The Muggle uniforms were definitely taking some time to get used to.

One thing he did notice, though, was that the students in red were always with those in black. The students in green, typically girls, were always with the students in white, who were almost always male. He made a note to ask someone to explain the system to him later.

When he went back to watching, Draco had stopped smiling, though a hint of it remained, and had returned to examining cauldrons. Ron began taking notes, all complimentary, about the man's teaching.

"Close Miss Allaway. Try adding the sugar at the beginning and the Meriwether at the end."

The Weasley smiled and continued his notes. He wasn't sure when Draco took a seat next to him, but he eventually looked up at the smiling man, silver eyes trained on his pupils.

"Any questions Mr. Weasley?"

Ron glared, "I'm not one of your students. But yes, I do have a few questions."

"Such as?"

"What's the deal with the uniforms?"

Draco chuckled under his breath, "Well, obviously we were going for something Muggle. Dean designed them ones we have. They consist of a white or black, or in one case grey, shirt underneath a blazer or jumper with the house color. Lily is green, Prongs is red, Padfoot is black, and Moony is white. Moony has white pants, Prongs has black, Padfoot also has black, and Lily wears khaki. Girls have the choice of either skirts or pants, and all students had a jumper and a blazer. In warm weather there are vests and short sleeves," his ash eyes turned towards the redhead, "We do take care of our students Mr. Weasley."

"I wasn't suggesting that you didn't," Ron responded, "But I am wondering why you chose to work here. You never struck me as someone that would become a teacher."

"You're right, I'm not that kind of person," he answered, "I was originally going to turn the position down, but Luna talked me into it. She had already accepted the position of charms professor, and I needed something to do. She pointed out that I wasn't going to be welcomed back into society. I had killed both of my parents. I had helped the Light, but I had stilled killed them. That marked me as a traitor, someone that couldn't be trusted. I would never be able to raise a family because people would always be afraid that I'd kill that family too. People only see the bad, they forget about the good."

The delegate nodded, "Okay, point taken. But why agree to teach Muggle-born children? I seem to recall you being anti-Muggle at one point."

"Redemption, atonement, penitence, whatever you want to call it, it's still the same thing."

Without warning, a flying paper bird came to rest before Draco's folded hands. Said man picked it up and unfolded it, his lips twisting up as he read it.

"What's that?"

"They're changing the name of Lilium. It's going to be something more appropriate," he explained, "The others are Marauders' and they have their nicknames as their house names. Lily was the only one we didn't know about. Harry was going through some old documents from the war and found out what Lily's patronus was. They'll announce the new name formally at dinner tonight," he glanced over at Ron, examining the other man, "But I'll go ahead and tell you. Her patronus was a doe, so it's been contested as to what the house should actually be called. Neville suggested Lilium, and at the time it was the best suggestion. Some students have complained about it because they say it isn't nearly as good as the others.

"So what do you do in a situation like that? Both students and professors alike aren't supportive of the name, so what do you do?" Draco continued, "We've been looking around for names that have something to do with deer and Luna's found one."

"Oh?"

The blonde nodded and held out the paper, "Isi. It's Choctaw for 'deer'."

Ron looked confused, "Choctaw?"

"It's a Native American tribe," he answered shortly, "It's better than Lilium in my opinion. Isi. It sounds appropriate I think. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and Isi."

"It sounds like someone sneezed."

Draco glared, "Then what do you suggest Mr. Weasley?"

"I had a cousin with a name that had to do with deer," Ron mused, "Her name was Bambi."

The blonde nodded, "The name does come from a word meaning 'young girl'. Lily Potter was supposedly a very vivacious woman. Always youthful. That's what people have always described her as. And she was young, so maybe."

He trailed off, and Ron watched as he scribbled something on the slip of paper before folding it back into its original bird shape. With a flick of his wrist, the bird was in flight once more.

"Why the birds?"

"They're easy to make and we can use them again if we write in pencil."

The redhead sighed, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" his voice was guarded.

"The magic. You're not using a wand, none of you are."

Draco laughed darkly, "I was waiting for one of you to notice that. No, we aren't using wands. It was something we had to do during the war. Harry's wand was broken, and his wasn't the only one that broke. It was something we learned because we had no choice. It was go without wands or go in there with wands, and that was essentially suicide. Without wands we were free to surprise our opponents, and we could use more than one spell at a time. We won because we didn't use wands."

* * *

"The werewolf began, not in Europe, but in North America. This is a fact often looked over by wizard historians, and werewolves were not bad. They were guardians, and what we have today was caused by experimentations performed by vampires during what big event?"

Ginny watched as Kristina Black destroyed her entire view of the world. She had been in the history class for fifteen minutes, and she already knew that the history education she had received at home and at Hogwarts was not the correct version at all.

Kris was an objective thinker. She didn't care about who looked good and who didn't; all she cared about were the facts. She was honest, and brutally so. Ginny wondered idly what would happen if the Black heiress was ever introduced to Professor Binns. She imagined it would be complete hell.

"Yes, Miss Foley (1)?"

The girl in white reminded Ginny of a young Hermione. Miss Foley answered the question plainly, "The werewolf experimentations occurred during the American Civil War."

Kris smirked, "Ah, but which civil war was it?" her dark eyes searched the room, landing on a familiar girl, "Miss Aquati, would you be so kind as to answer?"

Azzurra, from what Ginny could see, smirked in return, "It was during the wars against the Native Americans. It reached its peak when the tensions with the Lakota and other bands in the Great Plains reached the climax against the U.S. military. In particular the 7th Cavalry (2). The original werewolves were all Native American, and during that time no one would notice if a few warriors went missing."

"Correct," the young professor smiled widely, "In fact, vampires were paid to take the braves. The U.S. military wanted them gone, and the vampires wanted them for experiments. I'm sure Miss Aquati can tell us where they were taken."

Ginny watched as the Italian girl scowled, "They were taken to Florence."

Kris's expression softened, "You've seen the laboratories."

"They were all over my street growing up, there were even the remains of one in my basement, complete with werewolf remains."

"That's right," the professor responded softly, "The project was abandoned after one artificial werewolf, the kind we have now, went rogue. Can anyone tell me what his name was?"

Once again Miss Foley's hand went up. Ginny was mildly amused that Kris ignored her.

"Miss Bergfalk?"

"His name was Adolf Brand."

"Do you know where he is from?"

Saskia smiled, the expression sickeningly sweet, "Would you like me to give you his street address? It was next door to my childhood home."

"Can you tell me why it is that you know all of this? According to magical law, both you and Miss Aquati should be in the complete dark about this, and yet the two of you have seen this."

She shrugged, "It's become a part of the local legends. They tell us stories about it so that we don't misbehave. I was told that Adolf Brand would eat children that didn't behave their parents."

"Correct. The Muggle world is aware of magic's existent. It is an integral part of life for some, as Miss Bergfalk and Miss Aquati have shown. Some of you I'm sure have more stories that will come to light further on in the years," Kris said, "Now, for your assignment. I want a three-page essay on my desk tomorrow at the beginning of class. It should be about what the werewolf experiments were and what could have been done to prevent the Adolf Brand situation."

The class groaned, but the Black heiress simply sighed and moved to sit next to Ginny.

"You handled that well," she praised.

Kris laughed quietly, "Any questions? I know what I'm teaching isn't what the wizards normally teach."

"Where did you learn this stuff?"

"My mother mainly," she answered, "But my father's book collection did help. Turns out the Black family was heavily involved in the werewolf experiments."

Ginny nodded, "Can I ask some things about the war? Luna answered most of my questions about the school."

"Shoot."

"Charity told me you were dangerous to them, are you?"

Kris's countenance darkened visibly, "Yes."

"Why?" Ginny pushed.

"Do you know about the secrecy spell?" she asked. When Ginny nodded the affirmative, she sighed, "The reason Serena and I are so dangerous is because we aren't bound by the spell."

Ginny's heart skipped a beat, "What?"

The raven-haired woman shrugged, "Yeah, I could tell you absolutely everything and there isn't a damn thing they can do to stop me."

"But you won't."

"No," she relented, "They gave me a sanctuary, somewhere I could be free from the curse of my family. I'm just Kristina here. No Black, no curse, just me. I would never betray them like that, and it's the same with Ray."

"That's very honorable," Ginny replied, "But I have one more question. The entire Black family has astronomical names, so why do you have the name Kristina?"

"Polaris."

"Come again?" Ginny asked.

Kris clarified, "My middle name is Polaris."

"Oh," the redhead said, "You poor child."

The Marauders' professor simply laughed.

* * *

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing this chapter. Please see my forum (under All Categories for some demented reason) titled The Marauders' School of Magic and vote on which name should replace Lilium.

(1) Foley is an Irish surname meaning 'marauder' I couldn't resist putting it in there once I saw it.

(2) Custer anyone?

And yes, the character from ARA actually does have the name Kristina Polaris Black. The coincidence was too good to pass up.

My thank you list: **sas420, Bobboky, Willow-Bee the Cat, harryxxx, loonyxtune, kittydemon18, WhiteTiger1992, immortal7, eaglesfreak17, RyudoPhoenix, Wonderbee31, hpnut1, LadyKnightSusan, wasu, **and** pstibbons**

_Until next time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	10. Chapter Nine: Snapshots

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Nine_

_Snapshots_

* * *

**A/N: This chapter contains both suggestive material and language. If this offends you, stop reading.**

* * *

"Why aren't you in class Miss Donovan?"

She had asked the question as soon as she had felt the small girl slip into the house. Charity didn't answer; she just moved to sit on the coffee table in front of Hermione.

"Are you okay Professor Potter?"

Hermione smiled, "You can call me by my name outside of school. Normally I wouldn't allow that but you're a special case."

"Most professors wouldn't let a student see them so vulnerable either," she answered, "And yet you are letting me."

"Like I said, you're a special case."

"Professor Lovegood already told Headmaster Potter what happened."

The older woman's mouth quirked, "That doesn't really surprise me."

Hermione was curled up, sitting on the couch in her living room. She looked perfectly healthy, but Charity could feel the pain rolling off of her in waves. She didn't know why the headmaster had sent her to take care of his wife for the day, but she figured that he had a reason.

"Are you okay?" Charity repeated.

"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'm beginning to think that this was Dolohov's intention all along," Hermione muttered, "Almost eight years and nothing. Always loss, always nothing."

"Pro—Hermione, what do you want to do today?" Charity asked tentatively.

The older woman smiled and gave a pointed look to the package resting beside a black owl. Charity seemed to know what it contained and she groaned. Hermione's smile simply grew.

* * *

"But werewolves date back to the sixth century in Rome."

Hermione shook her head, "No, that's the first European record of werewolves turning against humans. But what happened was that the Romans were destroying the land and tribes that the werewolves protected, they were simply retaliating, fighting to protect what they loved. Werewolves actually began in the Pacific Northwest. According to some of the legends there, the first humans were werewolves. We're talking about creatures that have been around since the beginning of time really. Werewolves have no age, only the artificial wolves that plague Europe now. In fact, Professor Lupin and her younger brother are the only real werewolves in Europe that I can think of."

"How are real werewolves created?" Charity asked.

"They can be born, like Professor Lupin, or a normal human can be transformed through a blood transfusion, like Professor Lupin's mother. Her younger brother Teddy was transformed during the time period before a werewolf becomes genetically stable at the age of five. It's a blood transfusion, but typically only works if there is a relation, such as brother and sister."

"I hate history."

"It can be boring can't it?"

Hazel eyes were hopeful behind her glasses, "What's next?"

Hermione glanced down at the list, "Potions."

Charity groaned again, "This is Zuzu's territory, not mine!"

The professor bit her lip in thought. She knew that Draco wouldn't mind if she altered his lesson plan a little. Charity would still learn what he taught the students during that day's class. She glanced over at the clock and smiled brightly.

"How about we make lunch?"

Charity's cheer was enough to convince her that she was right.

* * *

"Hello," Luna chanted as she leaned up against the door of Draco's chambers, "I was just beginning to think that you had vanished after your class."

He glanced up from the book before him. He gave a half smile and nodded for her to come into the room, "I could say the same about you. Are you dodging Mr. Weasley?"

"Possibly."

She sat down next to him on the bed, her blue eyes roaming over the potions textbook. The two sat in silence for a while, but words were rarely needed when a psychic was present. When she let her head rest on his shoulder, he sighed.

"I thought you said we weren't supposed to happen."

"No, I said that we wouldn't end together," she raised her head a little, just enough for ash to meet blue, "I never saw what happened in between. My gift doesn't give me all the details, just enough that I can roughly guess what is going to happen on the way. But you have to remember that the future is never set in stone. Just look at what happened with Harry. All the predictions said it would happen another way, and yet it didn't. There are multiple futures that could happen, and all but one are destroyed when a certain decision is made."

He smiled cynically and leaned over, his mouth inches away from hers, "What happened to Hermione? And Miss Donovan? When I passed Kris's classroom I noticed that Azzurra and Miss Bergfalk were sitting by themselves."

Luna sighed and pulled away from him, running a spidery hand through her blonde hair, "She miscarried."

"Again?"

"Yeah," she explained sadly, "Andromeda thinks that it might be some residual effect of that curse that Dolohov hit her with. She made it longer than normal this time, so it might just be the extreme stress she's been under. She'll be fine, and should be back to normal by tomorrow. This has happened enough that it barely fazes her anymore. I want to help her, but I just don't know what to do anymore. I can see the children in my visions, but it seems like they'll never happen."

He threw the book to the side and leaned backward, his head hitting the pillow, "This is all so confusing. Maybe I should just give up."

"Or maybe we should try to change what I've seen. It is possible. Difficult, but possible."

"Maybe we should."

Draco knew that psychics could be wrong, and that they often caused more problems than they solved. But he relented, and found that he quite liked the flavor of blueberries.

* * *

"The charm I'm about to teach you is one that is normally used by mothers or teachers of young children," Hermione explained, "It's called the Sparkle Charm, simply because that's what it looks like. It's a basic charm and can come in handy."

"Words?"

"There are none. This is one of the few charms that has no vocal command," Hermione demonstrated by holding up her wand and letting a few red lights dance out of the tip, "It's a basic charm because it helps with controlling the amount of power you put into spells. Little kids like it because it's sparkly."

She stood up and pulled Charity outside onto the deck. She answered the confused look of the young girl with the explanation that when Harry had learned it, he had blown up a lamp.

"So I hold my wand like this?" the small girl asked, holding out the seemingly harmless piece of wood out in front of her.

"Yes, now just push a little of your magic through it while thinking of a color."

Charity did as she was instructed, but flinched as an eruption of blue sparks sent a nearby tomato plant soaring into the sky, only to fall back to the ground in an incinerated mess.

"And that is why we're outside," Hermione muttered before correcting Charity's mistake.

A few more tries and several burned plants later, there were tiny blue sparks dancing in front of the student.

"I did it!" she laughed, overjoyed that she had finally done it. She glanced over at her mentor for the day, only to see Hermione's eyes focused on the sparks. Without thinking, she let her other sense gingerly detect the emotions emanating from the woman.

Pain, suffering, sorrow, grief, the typical death emotions were all there. She could feel the self-hate, and hate directed at someone else. She could feel the jealousy, the sheer envy that always accompanied loss.

But underneath it all, she could feel the hope.

Charity let a small smile spread across her face as she let the sparks begin to change colors. She twirled around, dancing among the lights, and was soon rewarded with a hesitant laugh.

It was enough. Just a laugh meant that she was going to recover.

* * *

"Why do people do this to themselves?"

Luna sighed and shifted so that her head was tucked under his chin, "I don't know. We're only human Draco; you can't expect us to be absolutely perfect."

"That does not answer my question."

"It's what we know."

He lifted up a strand of blonde hair, twisting it around his fingers, "That's not an answer Luna."

She sighed again and lifted her head up, resting her chin on her hand, "Humans have always known pain and suffering, drama if you will, since the dawn of man. We keep going back to that, causing it for ourselves because it's like a security blanket. I don't like it anymore than you do, but sometimes you just have to do something."

"So self abuse is instinct?"

"Yes, it is."

She returned to her former position, content with his arm wrapped around her waist. She didn't close her eyes; she knew that the visions of the future that should have been would simply plague her. She did it anyway, and faced the things that would likely never happen.

Children, screeching with happiness and laughter danced along the pathways that encircled the school. There was a young girl holding her sister's hand, her raven hair flying out behind her, occasionally mixing with her sister's auburn locks. She could see a young boy standing with his little sister, their lightly tanned skin so different than their vibrant red hair blended with the occasional strand of black.

There were others, a boy and his sister, their brown hair and lavender eyes wide with excitement as they watched a ginger cat brush by a strange flower. A set of girl, identical in every way, examined the sky peaking through the branches, their platinum hair shining in the shadows.

And then there was them. The two boys, identical like the blonde girls, with the flame red hair and the crystal blue eyes.

It was a future that wasn't meant to happen anymore. It couldn't. Their choices during the war and the choices that had been made just recently kept it from ever being reality.

His arm tightened around her, "What is it?"

"Just thinking about everything we've lost."

"You saw them again?" he asked, "Harry's girls?"

She smiled wryly, "Jaime Rose with the raven hair and Lily Marie with the autumn locks. I always wanted to meet them, they seemed like such interesting girls," Luna shifted, moving closer to him, "We've sacrificed so much for the greater good, given up on our own hopes and dreams. Why did Ron and Ginny have to come here? Can't they see that they're just making this worse?"

"Who knows? I think the fates hate us all," he paused, "And how do you know their names?"

"Maybe it's a sign that we should come clean," she glanced up and smiled, "In my more vivid visions I can hear people calling their names."

He sighed, but nodded in understanding of her last statement, and replied to the beginning, "Need I remind you of the whole 'family killer' argument?"

She wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him as tightly as she could, "You'll still have me. If the visions don't come true, I'll still be here."

"And if they do come true?"

Tears gathered in her eyes, "We both know that's unlikely."

* * *

"Harry?"

Said man turned around to face the lithe woman, "Hello Kris, what can I do for you?"

She glared, "Ginny Weasley sat in on my class today."

"That's what she's here to do."

She took a few threatening steps closer to him, "I do not want her or her brother in my classroom. I would also suggest that you keep at least Ginny out of Serena's class. Ray has more self-control than I do, but even I want to shout at them what it is that has happened. If you want to keep your little secret, she has to stay away from me."

He sighed, "I'll se what I can do."

* * *

It was late when Headmaster Potter returned to his little home in Godric's Hollow. Charity was setting the table as Hermione moved around in the kitchen, fixing dinner.

She had found that the Headmaster's home was actually quite interesting. There were photographs and bookshelves everywhere. She had been allowed a room that night, as it would be too late for her to return to the school before everything was locked. The upstairs was similar to the downstairs. The color scheme, darks reds and sage greens with the occasional wall of khaki here and there, covered both upstairs and down. She had seen every room except for two.

One was a study, and she had felt the same emotions coming from it that she had from the little snitch in the Headmaster's office. It was stronger, though, almost as if there were two snitches in the study instead of one. A part of her wanted to ask what was causing the sensation, but a more rational side told her to stay silent.

The second room was the one that nearly crippled her. The door was painted green, and there was a place for a nameplate on its wood surface. She didn't need to open the door to know that it was an empty nursery. She could feel those same emotions she had felt from Hermione, shrouding that room in near darkness to her sixth sense.

She heard the door open from the dining room, and she bounced into the hallway with a smile on her face, "Welcome back Headmaster!"

He cringed, "Call me by my name outside of school. 'Headmaster' just makes me feel old."

There was a short laugh from the kitchen behind Charity, and she turned to see Hermione leaning up against the door.

"Glad to know you're feeling alright," he murmured before clapping his hands and asking brightly, "So what's for dinner?"

Dinner, as it turned out, was what Harry termed a 'Hogwarts meal'. Charity recognized most of it as things her grandmother cooked, with one exception.

"No meat?"

Hermione's fork stopped on its route to her mouth and she glanced at her husband, who was hiding his smile behind a hand.

Mrs. Potter sighed, "No. After the war and some of the things we saw, it kind of put us all off meat. Pass by the teachers' table in the dining hall sometime; you'll notice that none of us have meat. We have trouble with blood."

"Ah," Charity nodded, "So what happened at school to day?"

The question was directed at Harry and he almost laughed, "Did you get your homework this morning?"

She blushed and muttered something that sounded like a confirmation. He looked at his wife and noticed that she was now the one hiding the smile.

He smiled as well and answered, "According to Luna, Ginny observed your transfiguration class. Apparently Miss Acquati and Miss Bergfalk weren't paying much attention, so if they don't have their essay done, it's because they were worrying about this one," he said, pointing a fork at the surprised guest, "She also observed Kris's history class and your darling cousin doesn't think that it would be a good idea for her and Serena to be watched. Ron sat in Draco's class and apparently had good things to say."

Hermione almost choked on a carrot as he finished the last sentence. She sat still for a moment; cinnamon focused on emerald, before she shrugged it off and continued eating.

Dinner was spent in silence, and Hermione retired early. Charity had had the same intentions, but Harry had called her into the study that she had avoided before she could reach her room.

She stood before his desk, her eyes roaming over the myriad books that filled the shelves lining all four walls. That push and pull was there again, coming at her from two directions. One was stronger than the other, the black aura of emotions that surrounded the ancient wand in the glass case behind the desk. The other was lighter, kinder, and emanating from the slivery cloak hanging in the corner of the room.

She wanted to know what they were so badly, but she knew that it was something that would have to wait.

"Charity," his voice pulled her back to reality and she smiled. He returned it, his green eyes soft, "I want to thank you."

"Why?"

He sighed, "Hermione. She's never recovered this quickly. She's still suffering a little, but she's always been good at hiding that."

"I can tell," she commented.

It earned her a short laugh, "I know, but I still want to thank you. She's doing better than normal and I think it really helped having you here."

She blushed, "It was nothing."

Harry was silent for a few moments, examining the girl. He had to admit, Hermione had had a point. Charity was exactly what he had always wished his own daughter to be like. She had similar appearances to Hermione, and she was extremely intelligent, but she wasn't all brains. He knew from Dean that she had an amazing talent with a broom. She could be a know-it-all and she could be childish, but she could also be grown up and dark.

Charity Donovan was just like them.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Luna had slipped out of her place in his grasp as she quickly gathered her things. She threw a mischievous smirk over her shoulder, "Think about how this will look if I'm seen leaving your room at this hour."

Draco sat up, "True."

"Besides," she began, "I've been picking up so many emotions and visions today. It's like I'm watching a film of little snapshots of people's lives. It's a little annoying, almost like a nonsensical chapter in a story. If I sleep in here I'll probably wake you up several times from the darker visions."

He laughed quietly at her explanation, but conceded that she was right.

Not wanting to mess with her own clothes, she grabbed a shirt out of his drawers and threw it on with her skirt. With a quick farewell, she opened the door.

And complete froze.

"Oh dear."

It can be stated that Luna Lovegood was relatively calm until all the devils in hell came to Earth.

* * *

A/N: this chapter was another transition, and not a very good one. It was originally titled _The Meaning of Endurance_, but _Snapshots_ seemed more appropriate. So _Endurance _will be chapter ten.

My thank you list: **Chibi-Penguin-Chan, TxA-GunFighter, truest-****of****-true-loves, talapadme, Wonderbee31, Hotkat114, lavonne1962, hpnut1, eaglesfreak17, kittydemon18, Cibbler, mafercita, sas420, Tris16, Doctor G.W Midnight, wasu, lagoonalily, deitarion/SSokolow, windlg, ObsidianEsper,** and **loonyXtune **

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_

**Just to be nice, here's a preview:**

"_She's stronger than she thinks."_

* * *

"_I don't want to hear what she wanted for you! I want to hear what you want!"_

* * *

"_You betrayed us all."_

"_No, I didn't. How could I when there was nothing to betray?"_


	11. Chapter Ten: The Meaning of Endurance

_**The Marauders School of Magic**_

_Chapter Ten_

_The Meaning of Endurance_

* * *

"Coco!"

Charity was met by a flurry of raven hair as she walked into charms. Professor Lovegood, she saw, was nowhere to be found. She sighed and extended her unique ability to find the missing teacher in an empty classroom at the other end of school.

"Hello Zuzu," she comforted the girl latched to her, "It's good to see you too, but I need to breath."

Azzurra quickly let her go, bouncing as she stepped backwards, "Sorry!" she squeaked.

"Where were you?"

She turned to find Saskia standing beside their table. She smiled in greeting and replied, "Professor Potter needed some help, so Headmaster Potter sent me."

"Have you seen Professor Lovegood?"

Saskia scowled at something over Charity's shoulder. She noticed that Azzurra had stiffened as well, and when she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with Maeve Foley.

She grinned sweetly, "Yes?"

"I asked if you knew where Professor Lovegood was," the girl repeated, "I need to ask about the assignment that's due."

"She won't be coming."

Charity turned for a third time to find someone else leaning up against the doorframe, "Professor Weasley!"

He gave a small smile and walked to the front of the classroom, "Please take your seats sunbeams (1)!"

There was a burst of giggles from the class, but they found their seats nonetheless. The empath has assumed that they would be having a substitute, and just to back it up she reached out to find the missing teacher.

Anger, resentment, embarrassment, and shock floated through the campus from the room. She sighed heavily and turned away as she felt the anger of a second person flare, much to the indignation of yet a third body in the room.

"Miss Donovan?"

She blushed and murmured an apology to the perpetually smiling Weasley. Almost immediately she shifted her focus to him.

Something had happened. His normal aura of tranquility was being disturbed. She liked to think of it in terms of colors. Every person had a normal emotion that was a certain color. In the case of George Weasley, his was blue. It was a bright, cheery blue, like the color of his eyes. The only way she could describe the disturbance in his emotions was as an ebon ribbon winding its way through the blue.

It really was annoying to live in a cloud of colors every day.

She noticed that he had finished speaking, and she quickly nudged Saskia to explain what had happened.

"We're supposed to read chapters three and four," she explained, "And we're to answer the questions at the back of each chapter."

Charity nodded numbly and flicked her book open, her hazel eyes focusing on the words. The chapter covered levitation; something that she didn't really think would be interesting. Still, she read it, and mechanically answered the questions at the back until Azzurra's elbow slammed into hers, sending her pen across the page. She glowered at her friend, but the Italian girl seemed unrepentant.

"What is with you Donovan?" she hissed.

She shrugged, "I can't concentrate. The professors are agitated. It's giving me a headache."

The answer seemed to pacify Azzurra a little, "If you're not feeling well then you should ask Professor Weasley if you can go and see Madame Tonks."

"The school librarian?" Maeve sneered behind them, "Why would someone with a headache go to the library?"

"Because she's the closest thing to a medic that we have," Saskia shot back under her breath, "According to Professor Brown, the original medic was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Who was she?"

Saskia was quiet as she thought, "I think Professor Brown said her name was Patil, Padma Patil."

"Miss Donovan?"

Charity's head snapped up, her attention focusing on Professor Weasley as he pointed towards the door. Standing against the frame was a grim Parvati Patil.

The divination professor beckoned the young girl out of the room, and when she arrived, the door closed and she was pulled into an empty classroom across the hall.

"Professor?" she began, but her voice faded as she caught sight of the sorrowful expression in her eyes.

The woman pulled an envelope out of her open violet robes, handing it to the confused student, "I'm really sorry Miss Donovan."

* * *

"Mandrakes are capricious plants," Neville Longbottom began as he stood before his class of Prongs and Padfoot students, "I know because my second year of schooling was filled with them. Can anyone tell me what one use of Mandrake root is?"

A hand shot up into the air, the boy with dark red hair was excited, as Ginny could see.

"Mr. Vaughan?"

The boy answered quickly, "Mandrake root can be used to revive people who have been petrified."

"The very reason we were growing them in second year," Neville responded, "Now, our limited hospital wing has requested that we make several potions for storage. One is a revival potion, but Professor Malfoy does not have access to the vital ingredient, which is what your new project is. Please put on your earmuffs and gloves and send one person from each group to collect a plant from the back of the greenhouse."

The visiting redhead watched with amusement as the Gryffindor alum instructed the students in the proper ways to care for the plant that she herself had despised during her own schooling.

Neville was a good teacher. He was passionate about the subject, and eager to pass on his knowledge. He was animated and far from the shy boy she remembered.

He had grown up and she was still a child.

"Someone spaced out."

Ginny jumped in her seat and looked to find that the students had indeed left the green house. A quick glance down at her watch told her that class was over. She blushed and muttered an apology.

He laughed, "It's not a problem. I understand that you never liked this class. Actually, I was expecting you to fall asleep on me."

"I wouldn't do that," she replied darkly before brightly asking, "So what made you want to teach here?"

"It was the only place I had left," he said, taking a seat across from her, "After the battle I knew I couldn't stay at Hogwarts. I knew Professor Sprout was nearing retirement, and it had always been my dream to take over when she left."

"Then what happened? If you wanted the job, then why come here instead?"

Neville shrugged, "I'm sure you've heard the comments about the things we did in the battle?"

She nodded.

"Then you have to understand that if I had stayed, nothing would have worked out. People would have found out what I had done, and event though I did it all for the greater good, they still wouldn't trust me. As Draco pointed out, no one wants to send their children to be in the care of someone so brutal and unforgiving that Death Eaters flinch at the sound of their name."

"They do that?" she whispered.

He nodded grimly, "This school is a sanctuary, and it saved us all. It gave us the chance to be ourselves. We could live in peace with what we had done. This place started the healing process. It's nowhere near being complete, but we're getting better."

She noticed that he mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an accusation. She chose not to push the subject, and instead asked, "So what's the curriculum for herbology?"

"Well, we obviously tend to the plants that Draco uses in his classes, and since he makes the potions for our limited hospital wing, we grow those plants too. We also grow a good deal of the fruits and vegetables served at meals. We're trying to make this school self-sufficient, and so far we're succeeding."

Ginny smiled weakly and made a note of that, "Anything else?"

"After we finish with this unit we're moving on to study the genetics of magical plants."

"Why that?"

Neville smiled, "We're dealing with Muggle-born children. Genetics is something that most of them are familiar with. We have to keep things set in a way that isn't too outlandish for them in order to ease them into magical society."

"Ron said something about allowing purebloods and half-bloods with magical upbringings attend the school. Is this true?"

"Yes. Kris Black insisted that it would be too elitist of us to exclude those with a magical upbringing, so we agreed after some time and they will be joining us in about five years. We will be limiting the number, though, and keeping it to children coming from families that we know we can trust. There are still Muggle and Muggle-born attacks going on that are led by purebloods and half-bloods. Until things settle down a little bit more, we just can't risk it. Our priority is the students' safety."

She sighed and wrote that down too.

He was right. Hogwarts had had a lot of problems protecting Muggle-born students from the wrath of the other students who came from families that had sided with the Dark Lord. There was still a lot of resentment, and the registration act had brought out the worst in everyone.

It had been almost eight years, and those sentiments still remained.

As such, she wasn't going to question the school's decision to train only witches and wizards from non-magical backgrounds. They promised to integrate those with magical backgrounds, and that promise would be good enough. She knew most of the staff very well, and she knew that they wouldn't go back on their word.

"You shouldn't trust us so blindly."

Neville's voice was soft, and it took a few moments to register in Ginny's mind that he had said anything at all. She glanced up at him, doe-like eyes confused.

His mouth twisted into a wry smile, something that seemed slightly out-of-place for him, "We're not exactly the type that can be trusted Gin. We've lied for years. We're lying to you right now. How can you trust our word so blindly?"

"There will be another visit in five years to ensure that you follow through with your promise," she stated numbly, "How did you manage to pull this off?"

"The school?"

She nodded.

"Kingsley."

Ginny's eyes widened in shock as the color drained from her face, "The Minister of Magic?"

"The very one," he replied, a tone weaving through his voice that was almost mocking her, "When you've got someone like that on your side, and yes he is included in the secrecy spell, you can do just about anything."

"Who are you?" she whispered, not quite convinced that this man really was who he said he was.

He just smiled, "I'm Neville Longbottom. Who are you?"

* * *

Luna Lovegood was not in a good mood, and that was saying the least.

She was furious, absolutely livid, and more than a little bit embarrassed.

A raving Ronald Weasley paced the room before her. She glanced over at her shoulder at Draco and almost grimaced. The poor man had had enough trouble because of the Weasley siblings, and this was like…

It was a little like twisting a knife in a wound, pouring alcohol on said wound, and then packing it with salt.

Both of them were dealing with a flaming redhead that didn't know when to shut up. They both had issues with their mental and emotional stability; the entire faculty had those problems. Ron wasn't helping.

"What is it that you want Ronald?" she snapped, her usually infinite patience running low.

"Things weren't supposed to be like this," he shot back, his ears burning crimson, "What has gotten into you? Have you forgotten who he is? What he's done?"

Her countenance darkened considerably, "I've done a hell of a lot worse, I can guarantee that."

He ignored her, "Why are you even here? The Ministry would have loved to have had a mind like yours working in the environmental protection department," he muttered the next line, "I should be at the Ministry."

Something in Luna snapped and in the next moment she found herself shouting, "I don't want to hear what she wanted for you! I want to hear what you want!"

The comment through him off and he stood staring at her in shock. He didn't seem to understand where her ire was coming from and she realized belatedly that her extra abilities were interfering with her emotions.

She could feel it. She had always known it, but the feeling of it was stronger than usual. It was like a splinter in her foot that she couldn't get out. It was those feelings of oppression and guilt; that thirst for perfection both internal and external. It was the combination of feelings that she had been overwhelmed with during the war as it assaulted her from all sides.

It was the emotions of a broken people.

"What are you talking about?"

She tried to hold it back, but the soft sob broke through. Behind her, Draco tensed in his seat, his hand in position to fire a curse of some kind. She smiled wryly. There were tears streaming down her alabaster cheeks, but she could still smile.

It was partly out of disgust.

"You don't get it."

"What is there to get?" he questioned, "You've lost it."

She shook her head, "No, you've lost. You became a teacher to rebel. It wasn't what she wanted, but you subconsciously had to get out of her idealistic vision. You thought Harry and Hermione were dead. That was one dream down. She wanted you to be in the Ministry, so you joined Hogwarts. It was your way of remaining sane in a world that didn't make sense anymore."

"What are you talking about?" he repeated.

She sobbed again, small and demure, the way a witch from a pureblooded family was expected to be, "Molly Weasley. I love the woman, I really do, but sometimes I just wanted to slap her. How much of your life did she control?"

His anger flared again, "This is not about my mother! This is about you and the ferret!"

She didn't have the chance to react before Ron was a crimson ball of fur on the floor. As he moved, she saw that Draco had transfigured him into a ferret.

Luna laughed. She turned and faced the other blonde sitting in the room, her azure eyes sparkling with mirth and tears.

"Why a ferret?"

He shrugged, "Revenge. I thought it would be perfect. He called me a ferret and he was about to say some rather nasty things about you. I didn't really want to hear his whining so I figured I'd turn him into something that can't speak."

She nodded and walked across the room, kneeling down by the ferret on the floor, "I'm not going to apologize Ronald, but I will turn you back."

With that, she returned to her former position and flicked her wrist. Within seconds, Ronald Weasley was back to normal.

He looked angrier, "You betrayed us all."

The comment pulled jaded laughter out of the young woman, the wretched sound echoing off the empty classroom's walls, "No, I didn't. How could I when there was nothing to betray? Harry and Hermione are here. So are Draco, George, Parvati, Andromeda, Serena, Kristina, Dean, Neville, and Lavender."

"Ginny? You were friends with her."

"Any friendship with Ginny was superficial. The girl was so insecure because of how sheltered she had been, and how much your mother controlled her life, that no relationship she built could live. She doesn't know how to love Ronald. As her brother you should have seen this."

"Me? I counted you as a friend."

Draco moved to hold the angry psychic back, but she eluded his grasp and marched up to the miffed Weasley, her teary face just centimeters away from his red visage, "I waited for you to notice me. I hid my unusual talents from everyone; I lied about so much of my life, just hoping that you would see me. But you never did. I threw so much away, hoping that one day you would look my way and you just kept watching the woman that wouldn't give you the time of day. I got sick of it. This is my time, my turn to control my life. I don't want you interfering anymore. Do us all a favor and go back to Hogwarts."

He was taken aback by her outburst, and over her head he could see the other blonde stifling laughter.

Ron sank to the floor, his head in his hands.

Luna sighed in disappointment and turned to walk away. Draco was out the door before her and only she heard Ron's whispered words.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

"Isi."

Hermione looked at her husband as if he were insane, "Come again?"

"Isi," he repeated, "It's Luna's suggestion for the new name of Lilium."

She nodded in approval, "I like it."

"Ron's suggestion was Bambi."

"Oh hell no."

He laughed heartily. Hermione smiled warmly and took a seat on the edge of his desk. There was a flutter of wings to her right and she glanced over to the familiar golden stand.

"Hello Fawkes," Harry greeted. The phoenix (2) bobbed his head in return.

Hermione fidgeted before she quietly said, "You heard about Charity, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did."

Her cinnamon eyes were glowing with hope and he had to look away. He knew what she was going to ask and he knew he couldn't say know. It was something that they had begun talking about after the second miscarriage.

"I'll talk to Kingsley in the morning," he promised, "But right now we need to talk about our guests."

She frowned, "I want them gone. I'm certain this time; it's too dangerous for them to be here. How long is it before one of us snaps and orders Kris or Serena to tell them the truth? Or what if one of the keepers breaks the spell? It can't withstand usage if more than three of the keepers wants it gone."

"I know love," he replied, "But Kingsley cast the die for us. We've made our move and it's their turn now. Unless something catastrophic happens, I can't see any other way."

"I hate this. It's changing all of us. Luna's retreating, Draco's falling apart, Kris is losing control of her temper, Serena's already working on keeping custody of Teddy in case something happens, Neville's becoming more and more cynical, Lavender's acting like a ghost, Andromeda is becoming stricter, Parvati is having nightmares, George is falling backwards, you're under way too much stress, I don't know what I'm doing, and Dean," she paused, "Dean is just Dean."

Something caught her husband's attention, "What's going on with Draco and Luna."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"That bad?"

"According to George," she began bluntly, "Charity has been skirting around them both for a few days now."

"Ah, Miss Donovan," Harry spun around in his chair, coming to a stop when Hermione stuck out her foot to catch it, "Do we know how she's affecting those around her?"

She pulled out a piece of paper from her open brown robe, "Miss Bergfalk and Miss Acquati are the obvious changes. Both have become a little livelier, as well as a little more protective than they were when we first met them. Maeve Foley is beginning to tone down. She isn't quite as high strung as she was in the beginning," her cinnamon eyes flickered down to the next name, "Rhys Vaughan is a little more outgoing. Mind you, he's never going to be a vivacious as Lavender was, but he's becoming a little like Neville before the Weasley duo came. Oliver Alvey has relaxed a little, but not much. He's still a little tense around people he doesn't really know."

"Does she realize what she's doing?"

Hermione shook her head, "She's stronger than she thinks."

He gave her a stern look, "And you're sure you want to go through with this?"

"It's for the best."

Harry opened his mouth to say more, and he would have, had Andromeda chosen a later time to come crashing through his office door.

"I figured it out," the frazzled witch announced as she came to a stop before his desk, "I know what's going wrong."

"What?"

Andromeda stood up straight, "Lavender just miscarried."

Hermione stiffened, the color draining from her face, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," the librarian/matron snapped, "But that's not the problem right now. I ran some tests and I think I know what's causing the miscarriages."

"Well?"

Her eyes were apologetic, "You're not going to like it."

And the world stopped turning.

* * *

A/N: And we get to see Neville's dark side! Ron and Luna finally get things out (that second line from last chapter's preview was originally from a scene about Parvati and George that was supposed to be in here. I took it out at the last second). I had so much fun writing this chapter, especially the Luna part.

**Important:**

Draco and Luna was not the coupling I had in mind when I started writing this. Then again, George and Parvati weren't supposed to happen either. Right now the ending of the story is in question because I need to know if anyone can see the Draco/Luna stuff actually having a future or if I should stick with my original plan.

I have a teacher that greets us this way. He's hilarious and has the personality that I always imagined the Weasley twins having when they grew up (assuming they ever did…)

Did anyone else notice that Fawkes just disappeared after Albus died? He should have gone to Harry if she had kept everything in character, but he just vanished. That's not satisfactory writing lady!

My thank you list: **crimson cyanide, delusionalmilitant, RyudoPhoenix, wasu, LittleMissTrumpetPlayer, mafercita, BlackDemonAngel, loonyXtune, kittydemon18, Doctor G.W Midnight, Wonderbee31, hpnut1, lagoonalily, Fibinaci, Chibi-Penguin-Chan, eaglesfreak17, sas420, truest-of-true-loves, immortal7, Hotkat144, **and **Clell65619**

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	12. Chapter Eleven: Heavily Broken

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Eleven_

_Heavily Broken_

* * *

Andromeda had already left the two in peace when Hermione broke down. In an instant, Harry was at her side, her small frame held tightly in his arms.

"This is all my fault. All this pain, I've been the cause."

"Shh," he replied, "There was no way to know that this would be a side effect."

His words didn't matter. She kept crying, her words repeating. It was late that night before she finally cried herself to sleep. He didn't want to disturb her, and in the end he resolved to leave her asleep in his office. With a word to Fawkes to look out for her, Harry Potter vanished in a blaze of green flames in the fireplace.

"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled at the man behind the desk. He flicked his wrist, the room locked to his satisfaction.

"It's been a long time Kingsley."

The dark man laughed and reclined in his chair, "So what brings you to my office at this hour?"

"A couple of things," he answered, "One is that you might have to cast another deciding vote."

"Why?"

Harry sighed, "The secrecy spell is taking a higher toll than was expected. It's been leeching power from our reserves. You know how a witch's pregnancy works, right?" Kingsley nodded, "Good. Then you'll know that if too much power is taken out of the backup reserves, they can't carry past the first few months. That's the magic that supports the baby, without it there can be no child."

"So that's what's been happening," the Minister was grim, his voice dropping in pitch, "I was beginning to wonder."

"You're the trump card if the other keepers come to a standstill," Harry continued.

"Why am I always the deciding vote?" Kingsley laughed.

It made the green-eyed man give a small grin, "Because you're an outside party. You aren't involved with all the personal dramas of that school. You can make the logical choice because of that fact."

"So can I make a couple of suggestions for the new name of Lilium?"

"Go ahead."

"Artemis."

Harry shook his head, "I know that one won't pass. Several of the professors have a deep hatred for Greek and Roman mythology. Apparently a lot of facts are wrong."

"Fleetfoot."

Harry leaned back in his chair, "Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and Fleetfoot. That's the best I've heard. Isi was nice, but Fleetfoot is _fits_."

The Minister nodded, "Anything else?"

Harry's expression softened, "I need you to arrange something for me. I'd do it myself, but since the world thinks I'm dead and I would like them to continue thinking that, it's better if I don't."

* * *

"How many of you can see this?"

Ginny's countenance was grim as she watched more than half of the students raise their hands. The 'mutant Pegasus', as an old friend of hers had always called them, was grazing among its herd. From where she stood she could see the texture of the leathery skin and the skeletal features, everything was visible.

She had always hated threstals, and the fact that so many innocent Muggle-born children could see them made her blood boil.

At the head of the group, Lavender nodded, "I won't say 'good', because it's not. Normal witches and wizards can't see Threstals. Does anyone know what the requirements to see them are?"

A few hands went up, and Ginny closed her eyes before the tears fell.

"Miss Foley?"

"You have to have seen and accepted death."

Lavender nodded, "Yes. Rather depressing considering the fact that most of you raised your hands. I know Miss Weasley back there can see them so I won't worry about her. As for those of you who can't see them, consider yourselves lucky," her eyes roamed over the group, landing on a boy from Moony, "Mr. Ververs, would you be so kind as to draw some of the threstals for the students that can't see them?"

The boy must have replied, but Ginny couldn't easily see him and she didn't hear him. She had noticed something, though.

Azzurra Acquati was Italian. Saskia Bergfalk was German. Maeve Foley was Irish. Charity Donovan was English. Rhys Vaughan was Welsh. Oliver Alvey was Canadian. Ververs, she knew, was a Dutch name. There were others, but she was struck by the sheer diversity at the school. She had met students from India, China, Africa, and there was even a student from New Zealand.

Lavender was under no conditions the same witch that Ginny remembered. She was patient and caring, but the redhead could see the stress marking her posture. She knew that something had happened. Ron was in a terrible mood that afternoon, Hermione and Harry were nowhere to be found, Luna had sent her a death glare to rival even Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco had seemed…odd. Even George seemed stressed out, and she hadn't seen the rest of the staff since yesterday, with the exception of Dean.

And Dean was still Dean.

She shook her head to dispel the thoughts, her brown eyes focusing on the other professor, only to realize that, as it had been with Neville, she had stopped paying attention and the class was gone.

Lavender stood before her, a small smile playing across her features, "Am I that boring Miss Weasley?"

"Sorry Lavender," she quickly apologized, "I was just wondering about the diversity of the school."

The other woman nodded and took a seat on a nearby boulder, motioning for Ginny to take the seat next to her.

"Hogwarts isn't the only school of magic to have problems protecting Muggle-born students from the purebloods with connections to the families that supported the registration act. So, unlike Hogwarts, we recruit worldwide."

"They all speak English flawlessly."

Lavender shrugged, "Most of them come from English-speaking countries, or they come from Muggle schools that taught them to speak English. If they don't, it's not hard to come up with a simple translation charm."

"How does that work?"

"The charm translates what they say into English, and it translates what we say into their language. There are a couple of students that currently have one in place."

Ginny nodded, "Is it auditory?"

"Yes," she replied, "The translation happens immediately, I could cast one on you and you wouldn't even notice if someone spoke a different language to you. I can name about three students that you've probably spoken with and they weren't speaking English the entire time. The translation charm let you hear their words in English so you didn't even realize what was going on."

"That's handy," the redhead muttered, "Is there any particular reason why there is so much diversity?"

"I was wondering if you were going to ask that," she gazed out into the forest as she explained, "We want to teach tolerance, and even though we are segregating the non-magical upbringing from the magical, we can still teach that. It starts with accepting people like you from all over the world. In five years, we'll be bringing in purebloods and half-bloods from all over the world. We have a list going. I can name students from some of the same countries the current students are from. We're not like Hogwarts, we're not restricting our population to Britain."

"Hogwarts had some diversity," Ginny defended, "Cho Chang grew up in Scotland, but she was originally from China."

Beside her, Lavender had stiffened, the color draining from her face, and her eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"Do you remember Cho?" the redhead continued, "She was one of the ones killed in the first wave of attacks on Voldemort's inner circle at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"I know that!" Lavender cried out, jumping to her feet, "I know that and I don't want to talk about it!"

Something clicked in the delegate's mind and Ginny stood up as well, "What happened Lavender? What happened during that first wave?"

"Shut up!"

"Did something happen?"

Lavender broke down, sinking to the ground on her knees, tears pouring from her eyes. She managed to choke out the words, "I can't tell you."

* * *

"My twin sister died in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Charity nodded, "Someone said that the school's matron was supposed to be Padma Patil."

Parvati smiled wryly, her dark eyes fixed on the scene beyond the window, "My sister. We were in different houses in school, and because of that, people didn't think we were close."

"Were you?"

"We did everything together outside of school," she answered, "In our early years, it was really hard. We had never been separated before. We used to sneak away from our dorms and go to one of the abandoned dormitories. I don't think anyone realized they were there. Anyways, we used to go there and stay in one of the rooms. Over the years it got easier to be apart, but outside of school we were inseparable. That's what twins are like, I think. Maybe it's just magical twins, but every witch or wizard that I've met that had a twin was the same with their twin as I was with Padma."

Charity started out the same window, her hazel eyes focusing on the skeletal horse grazing among the trees near the school, "Chastity was the outgoing one. I was always quiet and shy. I was terrified by people. It had something to do with my empathy, but I couldn't stand the cloud of emotions that I was always surrounded by. Chastity was a telepath. Unlike me, she could turn her power off. Because she could function around normal people, she was always the one to watch out for me. I was often teased because I didn't know how to act around others. She defended me. Everything was okay as long as Chastity was there."

"I wouldn't have believed that you had any trouble getting along with others."

"I did," she replied, "How did you deal with losing your sister?"

Parvati sighed, "For a long time, I didn't. I didn't know how to. Back when I was in school, I always thought of life after the war involving Padma. I never stopped to consider the fact that one of us might not live to see the end. It really wasn't until George Weasley came here that I was able to deal with it. It really helped having someone here who knew what it was like to lose that connection. What about you? Your sister was killed in a Death Eater raid, right?"

The young girl nodded, "It wasn't until I got my letter for Marauders' that I realized that I wasn't living just my life anymore. I always knew that my sister and I were witches, the psychic stuff made it obvious. Chastity dreamed of a school of magic when we were younger. She would have loved this place. Sometimes I wonder if we would have been sorted into different houses. She was so carefree and strong, and when I realized that I was living her life too, I realized that I had to do my best to make her proud."

"Why do you say you're living her life too?"

"Because her life was unfinished, so someone has to finish it for her. As her identical twin, it only makes sense for that responsibility to fall to me."

The divination professor laughed, "I like your logic."

"But what will I do now?"

"That's up to you."

There was a knock at the door of the classroom. They both turned to find the aforementioned Weasley leaning against the frame, a smile on his face and a letter in his hand, "I think I have the answer to that Miss Donovan."

* * *

"We know the situation, so what are we going to do?"

Dean Thomas sighed. He hated meetings, and meetings like this one were the worst.

He was seated in the conference room where faculty meetings were normally held, but this time he was there with three others.

"I think we should break it," Andromeda deadpanned.

Neville nodded, "That's one vote for it going, but I think it should stay in place. Think of what the aftermath will be if someone slips up."

"Think of it from my point of view Nev," Luna interjected, "I want to get married and have children one day. If this spell stays in place, I can't do that. Your wife just lost a baby, surely you can think of a few reasons to let the spell go."

"Two for breaking," Dean said lazily.

"And what do you want?" the only other male shot, "You seem to not care."

"That's because I don't really," he answered, "I can think of reasons for both sides and they're all good reasons. Personally, I'd kind of like to leave it be. We've survived thus far, and there's always adoption."

Andromeda shook her head, "It's not the same. See this from a woman's place. Childbirth is the one thing that is ours and ours alone. The ability to create life is sacred. To ask perfectly healthy women, who want children, to give that up because of something that can be remedied is inhumane."

Luna sighed, "I can see the adoption standpoint. It's a wonderful thing to give a child a happy home when they otherwise wouldn't have one. I always thought that I might adopt a few Muggle-born children that were orphaned during the war, Merlin knows the numbers are way to high, but I always wanted a child of my own as well. It is possible to love both equally, but there is something…magical about bringing a new life into the world."

Dean's head hit the back of his chair.

"Think about Kristina and Serena," she added, "Remember that we agreed to include them in the secrecy spell this New Year's. If we do, then what are they going to do? Kris is getting married this summer, and Serena's probably going to be engaged by the end of January. What are they going to say when they have to explain why they can't have children?"

"It's just too risky for us to break it," Neville spoke in a level voice, as if he had given the subject a lot of thought. Which he probably had, Dean thought. Neville stood in a precarious situation concerning the secrets held by the spell. Chances were he had spent a lot of time discussing this possibility with his wife. Still, Dean was in the position to cast the final vote.

He really hated being the tiebreaker.

He saw the women's perspective, but he also saw Neville's. The fallout was going to be nasty, and they were slightly better off if they waited until things on the political and social side calmed down. What would they tell the families of the dead? What would they tell the survivors? What would the world tell them? There were simply too many questions involved with breaking the spell.

The other three keepers were still in a heated debate when the door to the room eased open and an old friend walked in.

Dean smiled, "Hello Minister."

All conversation fell silent as the other three watched the current Minister of Magic waltz into the room and take a seat next to Dean.

"Harry and Hermione have filled me in on the current debate. Please continue."

"What are you doing here?" Neville asked.

Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled genially, "I'm the fifth keeper. If the four of you are going to be discussing this, I might as well be here."

Dean groaned, "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"What do you think?" Luna asked airily.

"I think we should wait until the New Year to have this discussion. It's almost Christmas, so let's put this conversation aside for three weeks and then come back to it if the Weasley siblings haven't figured it out for themselves. If they haven't, then they'll be gone and you can do away with the spell without any need to worry."  
"Best idea so far," Andromeda mumbled.

Neville nodded, "Meeting adjourned. Sorry for disturbing you Minister."

"Quite alright," Kingsley replied, "I needed to come here to finalize something anyway. I would have been here regardless of whether or not this meeting was happening."

* * *

"We need to talk."

"That sentence usually spells gloom and doom," Draco replied sarcastically. Nevertheless, he turned away from his desk to face the blonde, "So what is it?"

"We're probably going to be breaking the spell this coming January," Luna announced.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I figured we would probably end up breaking it."

"AndIwaswonderingifyouwouldliketohavedinnertonight," she squeaked.

He gave her a confused stare, "Come again?"

She took several deep breaths, and seemed to brace herself for something, "I was hoping you would like to have dinner tonight," she paused, "In town," she paused again, "With me."

Draco managed thirty seconds of stoic silence before he cracked up, "All you had to do was ask."

Her mouth turned down in a pout, "That's exactly what I did you twit!"

"I'd love to go."

Luna had been prepared to say something else, but Draco's soft acceptance effectively silenced her. She smiled and nodded, "War monument at eight?"

"I'll be there."

Luna Lovegood, who had started out the day with residual anger towards the visiting Ron Weasley, was suddenly in a very good mood.

"It's strange," she whispered, "After the war we were so broken. We didn't know what to do next. Now look at us."

He smiled, "It's nice not to be in so many pieces, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. I don't like being broken. It's not a healthy way to live."

* * *

A/N: And I am done with this! I had so much trouble writing it. At least some secrets are starting to come out into the light.

Thank you all for all the long reviews! They're so much fun to read!

My thank you list: **delusionalmilitant, Zazzle, webweaver, mafercita, cinnamon988, ThrushflightEdward'sStalker, sweetgirl23, Perire Dea, Cibbler, Ember Riddle, wasu, Hotkat144, cutecess, MelanieB, booster-t, immortal7, Wee Kindred, plosergurl, Fibinaci, truest-of-true-loves, kittydemon18, hpnut1, Clell65619, Lon Wolfgood**

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_

**I'll be nice. Here's a preview:**

* * *

"_Something happened during that first wave of attacks."_

* * *

"_We have no way of know whether or not this is the right course of action."_

* * *

"_We can't change the past, but we can change the future."

* * *

_

"_I threw away everything for this, but was it right?"

* * *

_

"_I would never do anything to hurt you. You can trust me on that."

* * *

_

"_Are you ready to greet the world once more?"

* * *

_

"_Welcome home."_


	13. Chapter Twelve: Bleeding Regrets

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Twelve_

_Bleeding Regrets_

* * *

"Come on Teddy, let's go."

Ron raced over to the window at the sound of the voice, staring down at the blonde woman walking beside a young boy with bright pink hair that quickly faded to dark blue.

He remembered that Teddy Lupin was at the school, but it had been so long, and he hadn't seen the boy, he had forgotten all about it.

A quick glance at the calendar told him that he didn't want to see Teddy for the next few nights. It was the full moon, and Ron wasn't so sure he trusted Serena's explanation that the Lupin family was completely harmless.

He remembered what happened to his brother Bill, and werewolves were not the creatures that he wanted to deal with after that.

"Something happened during that first wave of attacks."

And Ron sighed, "Gin, I don't have time for your conspiracy theories."

His sister came to stand in front of him, the promise of bat-bogey hexes in her eyes, "Something happened Ronald. Do you remember who was in that group?"

"The first to attack the Dark Lord?" he asked. When she nodded the affirmative, he continued, "Of course I do. Hannah Abbot, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Marcus Belby, Katie Bell, Susan Bones, Cho Chang, Terry Boot, Seamus Finnigan, Michael Corner, Roger Davies, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan."

"Do you remember what happened to them?"

Ron frowned, "They were all killed, and most of the deaths were extremely brutal and violent. Some were tortured before they were killed. What of it?"

"Lavender freaked out when I mentioned Cho," Ginny began, her words running together with the speed at which she was speaking, "I think something happened, something that everyone missed. I think this might be why Harry and the others left."

He was silent for a few moments. Then, "You're a fool Ginny. And have you been reading Gabrielle's Muggle books? Those murder-mystery things, yes, you must have been. Lavender and Cho were probably friends, or they had mutual friends. Then again, a lot of that group was in Gryffindor, maybe the mention of Cho made her think of Seamus or someone like that."

Ginny blushed with embarrassment and the memory of reading said books belonging to Fleur's little sister, "You're right. I wasn't thinking. It probably was Seamus; I seem to remember Lavender liking him for a while."

"What happened at dinner? I meant to get down there but I lost track of time while I was in the library."

She prepared to answer, but quickly changed whatever she was going to say as she blurted, "You were in the library?"

He nodded, "I wanted to know if one of them had altered a history book. Draco was teaching out of Snape's altered potions textbook, so maybe one of them fixed a history book."

"Doubt it," she replied, "And all they did at dinner was announce the new name for Lilium."

"Oh?"

"It's Fleetfoot now."

Ron shrugged, "That's not that bad. It actually fits. Sirius would be proud. Now, back to why we're here. Have you found any reason why Hogwarts should not allow this school to continue encroaching on the population of prospective students?"

"Speak English my dear brother."

"Is this a suitable school for the students?"

"Why couldn't you just say that?" she sighed dramatically, "No, I haven't. This place is perfect for them. It's perfect for the others too. When we came here, I was hoping that they would see that they were needed in our world. Now I realize that they're needed here even more."

"I just want to know why they haven't thrown us out yet."

"I don't think they can Ronald," Ginny explained, "I seem to remember something about newly established schools being visited by an established school to approve them for…oh what was it?"

"Accreditation?" he asked.

"That's the one!"

"They were expecting Kingsley to save them," Ron murmured, "But even the Minister can't protect them from Hogwarts."

She frowned, "I want to know why the Minister is involved in this. He was at the opposite end of the battlefield when the war ended, remember? Kingsley was at the school entrance keeping Death Eaters from entering and Harry and the others were in the Forbidden Forest."

"They needed to have inside help to establish the school in secrecy. Kingsley was the only one capable of that."

Ginny nodded in acceptance and vanished into another room. He heard the shower running, and quickly pulled out a piece of parchment. Opening the window, a tawny owl jumped in and he handed the letter to the bird, watching as it took off into the night.

"Maybe you're right," he whispered, closing the window once more.

* * *

"We have no way of knowing whether or not this is the right course of action."

Luna smiled softly. She, in the beginning, hadn't been certain if pursuing a relationship of any kind with the Malfoy heir was a good idea, but she was beginning to warm up to it.

Draco was easy to talk to about the current events of the school. He listened, he knew how to respond intelligently, and he didn't question her if she said something odd.

"It's the only real choice we've got," she replied, spearing a sauce-covered ravioli with her fork, "I mean this is something big. We worked so hard to conceal ourselves from the world; do we really want to go back to that? I don't, but we have to break the spell, at least for a long enough period of time to give Hermione and Lavender a chance to have children. I hate seeing them suffer, and it's hurting Hermione even more because this was her fault."

He shrugged, "Yes, but everything requires sacrifice. We were planning on wiping the memories of the two Weasley siblings of all the personal knowledge they gained while here. They won't be able to remember anything they figured out, but memory-altering spells are not the most reliable charms. If we do remove the secrecy spell and someone on the outside slips up, Ron and Ginny could remember something."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt is the only one on the outside and he's not going to slip."

"So much faith," he mocked gently, "But you have to understand that we're only human. We all make mistakes. Think about what could happen if someone finds out what we did. I can still smell the burning flesh, and even worse, I still hear the screams. I don't want to deal with anymore guilt than I have to, and I know it's the same for you."

Luna chewed thoughtfully on the pasta in her mouth. Draco was right. She had the same memories, and she didn't like that they were been drudged up to the surface. It would be a black, black day when the population of the magical community found out their transgressions.

It had been war, but that wasn't the excuse to give the mourning families of the dead.

She laughed cynically, just low enough for only her companion to hear.

"What is it Luna?"

"When we went through with the plan, it seemed like it was the right choice," she explained, so softly that he could barely hear her, "It wasn't an issue of morals; it was an issue of what would win the war. We did this for the greater good, but will it be seen as that? The mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles…what do we tell them? I want this spell broken, but…I just don't know anymore."

The corners of his mouth turned up quickly, "I didn't mean to give you a mental debate," his ash eyes suddenly turned steely and serious, "But you can talk about it. Everyone is going through this right now."

"Except Dean," she replied, "I don't think Dean can be fazed by anything."

He nodded in agreement, "Except Dean."

"My father was among the inner circle," she admitted morosely, "I didn't realize it until it was too late. I ran a search through some of Kingsley's records and found that Minerva had sent him undercover. He was killed by Colin Creevey. I don't know which hurt more. On the one hand, my father was dead. On the other, his killer was a friend."

"You know my parental situation," Draco responded, "I think that's why I've always wanted a family on my own."

"To fix it?" she asked.

He nodded, smiling slightly, "Yeah. I wanted nothing more than to fix what had gone wrong in my childhood. The Malfoy family was famous for being terrible with children. I guess I've always wanted to break that curse."

She riposted, "I can give you their names and birthdays. I can even tell you their favorite colors."

He gave her a confused stare that vanished when she tapped the side of her head. As if to prove her point, she closed her eyes.

And what she saw was not normal.

Her smile grew warmer than it had been in years. Her silvery blue eyes opened slowly.

"We can't change the past, but we can change the future."

* * *

"I can understand why you're upset about this Parvati," George soothed, "But you have to understand where everyone is coming from."

She spun on her heel, her shoes echoing in the empty classroom. Charity was already gone, the delighted young witch had gone bouncing out of the room the second she had finished the letter.

Parvati and George, on the other hand, stayed behind.

"I threw everything away for this, but was it right?" she continued, "I want the chance to defend myself, but now I'm questioning whether or not I really want to face the aftermath. This is going to be brutal and vicious; do we really want to throw things to chance?"

He snorted, "Like I know. They're my brother and sister, and even I want them gone right now. They're pushing too hard and I'm afraid someone's going to break."

"Yeah," she shot back at him, continuing her pacing, "Me! Half the time I want to tell them what happened, and the rest of the time I want to throw them out the door myself."

"Do you hear it?"

The question, to an outsider, would have been completely out-of-place. To Parvati Patil, she knew exactly what he was saying.

She grimaced, but responded with the affirmative regardless.

It wasn't something she liked to think about. It wasn't something that any of them liked to think about. Everyone, with the exceptions of Andromeda, Kris, and Serena, heard it. It followed them as they walked down the halls to class. It wove its way into their dreams at night. It wrapped around them in a poisonous embrace as they tried so desperately to move on with their lives.

She hated it, but couldn't find the way to escape.

"Who?"

She stopped pacing and closed her eyes solemnly, her hand moving to toy with the end of her black hair nervously, "Angelina."

"Alicia."

It was their mark as sinners of the worst kind.

"I hate it," she whispered, "I hate the fact that I can't do a thing without hearing the screaming echoing in my ears. I hate the fact that I can't close my eyes without seeing the carnage of that first group when we saw the consequences of their attacks. I hate the fact that I can't walk into a place and not smell that horrid scent of burning flesh. I hate the fact that I can't seem to wash the blood off of my hands."

"I know the feeling."

She knew that he did. The battle had been brutal, and the fighting had taken place among the remains of the friends that they hadn't been fast enough to save. It was their greatest folly, letting that first group of so many innocent souls die.

"Why did we do it?" she begged for an answer to something.

George remained silent. The question hadn't been meant for him, and even if it had been, he didn't know how to answer it.

* * *

"Coco!"

Charity quietly shut the door of her dorm room, her hazel eyes unfocused. Saskia, noticing this, immediately moved from her bed to stand in front of her friend.

"Coco?" Azzurra repeated.

The second calling of her name seemed to wake her up, and she quickly focused on the blonde standing before her, "Sorry, what?"

"What happened when Professor Patil pulled you out of class Charity?" the German witch asked slowly.

Charity responded by pulling out the letter she had been given, "Krista and Tom were killed by anti-Muggle wizards. Apparently word got out that I'm a pureblood by birth."

"Krista and Tom?" Azzurra questioned, "Who are they?"

"My most recent foster parents," she answered, her gaze flickering to the floor, "Strange things were always happening around my sister and me. As a result, no one wanted to adopt us. So we were moved around every six months. Sometimes sooner if something big happened. We found out that Chastity was a telepath because she was angry with one of our foster parents for yelling at me and she gave them really nasty nightmares. I think we were in that house for two weeks before we bounced to the next place."

"Coco," Saskia crooned as she pulled the shorter girl into a hug, "I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell us that that was what it was like for you?"

Charity responded by wrapping her arms loosely around her friend's waist, "Because I already had a new family. I've got two great sisters, numerous aunts and uncles. I've got a new grandmother, and I even have a new Mum and Dad."

"You're being adopted?" Azzurra shrieked, "When? Are you leaving?"

"Yes," she replied, skipping away from Saskia as she twirled around their room, "It was finalized this morning. And I'm staying."

"Who is it? Are they magical?"

"Yep!"

"So," Saskia prodded, "Who are they?"

Charity's smile grew, "I have the option of changing my last name to match theirs."

The Italian girl on the bed sighed, "That's not an answer Coco."

"So," she tapped her lip with her finger, turning to face the frost-covered window, "Should I stick with Donovan or go by Potter?"

Azzurra laughed, "I guess the school really is your home now."

Saskia smiled warmly, "Welcome home Coco."

"That sounds nice."

* * *

"Hermione?"

The brunette glanced up from her paperwork to find Ginevra Weasley leaning against her door.

"Come in," she greeted, "I'm just finishing up some last minute paperwork for the name change before I go home."

Ginny walked in slowly, sinking into one of the green chairs in front of the desk, "Ron just got the most recent report from Minerva."

Hermione stopped what she was doing, "Oh?"

"I would never do anything to hurt you. You can trust me on that."

"Start talking Weasley."

The redhead flinched at her tone. When Ron had passed a copy of the letter on to her for distribution, along with a list of names, this was what she should have been prepared for. She wasn't used to being the barer of bad news, and something like this could destroy the fragile environment of the school.

Her brown eyes focused on Hermione's, and her resolved hardened.

"The situation is this…"

* * *

"I thought I'd find you here."

Harry didn't even turn around as he rearranged the desks in his classroom. Ron was behind him, unarmed.

He stood up straight as his own thoughts sunk in. _Unarmed_? Had the war effected him enough that he couldn't escape that 'kill or be killed' mindset? Sure, Ron was an outsider amongst a group of hardened killers that would gladly take his life if he crossed the wrong line, but that didn't make him an enemy to be examined every time he entered a room.

Harry shook his head and turned to greet his old friend, "What brings you here?"

A piece of parchment was produced from inside Ron's cloak. He held it out to Harry with the grim response, "Are you ready to greet the world once more?"

His blood ran cold as the letter appeared in his hands, emerald eyes raking over the elegant script.

"She just wants you to come and meet with her," Ron explained, "It's just Minerva; she's not going to hurt you. All she wants is a private conference between you and some of your professors about the curriculum. She thinks that your ideas might save us a lot of grief at the castle."

Harry read the list of names, "Hermione, Draco, Luna, George, Neville, and me," he reached a second note, "She wants us to bring our best students of every subject?"

The redhead nodded and pulled out a quill and a blank parchment, "I'll need their names and houses for her."

He didn't respond to Ron, but instead sent out paper cranes to those needed. Within seconds, the professors on the list were standing next to the headmaster.

Ron sighed. He had expected it to be troublesome, but he hadn't expected the possibility of a fight. His wand was in his room, locked away in his trunk. He hadn't thought that it would be a good idea to carry it in hostile territory.

He looked away from the Marauders' faculty.

_Hostile territory_? Where had that come from? When had he begun thinking of Harry and the others as threats? It had seemed like, in the beginning, they were beginning to reconnect, and now this was happening.

Had he really fallen so far to see his former friends as enemies?

The space behind him was suddenly filled with the harsh breathing of someone who had just run a great distance. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was his sister.

He didn't really care where she was at the moment. All he wanted to know was where this whole thing went wrong. They had been sent to check out the school, but Minerva had made it clear that their second objective was to find out why the professors left and to try to reconnect.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to go.

"We've got your names."

Draco's voice shook the delegate out of his reverie. He nodded and took up the quill, dipping it into the ink well that Ginny had placed next to the parchment on a nearby desk.

"Left to right," he ordered, nodding to Neville first.

"Rhys Vaughan," the other wizard replied.

"House?"

"Padfoot."

George sighed heavily, "Remy Ververs. He's in Moony."

"Azzurra Acquati," Draco called out, "She's in Fleetfoot."

Harry nodded, "My student is in Fleetfoot too."

"Name?"

The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to hesitate. He sent a glance over at Hermione and when she nodded, he answered, "Charity Potter."

Ron froze, but had to continue as Luna called out the name and house of her student.

"Maeve Foley of Moony."

"Reina Nieves," Hermione told him quietly, "She's in Padfoot."

Harry took over for the professors that weren't present, "Oliver Alvey from Prongs. Lachina Allaway from Padfoot. Saskia Bergfalk from Fleetfoot. Lin Xiu from Moony. Roimata Halloran from Padfoot."

Ron nodded and wrote the last name down, "These students will be accompanying you to Hogwarts for the final review of this school's achievement. They will be tested for their knowledge in the subjects that you will designate them for. How they score will reflect the quality of education here at the Marauders' School of Magic. You will not be allowed to prepare these students for the tests."

"We get it," Draco interjected.

Ron glared, "We leave tomorrow morning."

* * *

A/N: Soundtrack: _Wrap Your Arms Around Me_ by Barenaked Ladies. That song is seriously what inspired this chapter.

For those of you hoping for Draco/Ginny or Ron/Luna, I'm sorry. Those were the original pairing for this story, but I've already written the chapter where everything is revealed, and there is no way those pairings can possibly work in this story. I am a huge supporter of the Portkey pairings, but I'm sorry, they just won't work.

More secrets are revealed!

My thank you list: **SpeedDemon315, ****delusionalmilitant, RyudoPhoenix, Tris16, HHrbelong2gether, sweetgirl23, LittleMissTrumpetPlayer, wasu, Wonderbee31, Chibi-Penguin-Chan, immortal7, truest-of-true-loves, Mela, eaglesfreak17, kittydemon18, Merlindamage, hpnut1, Hotkat144, ThrushflightEdward'sStalker, Clell65619**

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_

**I'll be nice again, here's another preview:**

* * *

"_How could you leave us like that?"_

* * *

"_Did you ever stop to consider what might happen if you did this?"_

* * *

"_Thank Merlin you're alive!"

* * *

_

"_Why are you even among them? You only caused them pain."_

* * *

"_Don't touch him! I don't care what you do to me, or what you say about anyone else, but don't you dare touch him!"_

* * *

"_We've taken a lot of lives. What would make one as insignificant as yours any different?"_

* * *

"_I was right."_


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Hallowed

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Thirteen_

_The Hallowed_

* * *

Charity sat between Reina and her new mother on the Hogwarts Express. It wasn't something she had been looking forward to, this return to the legendary school. Around her, the students were curious or frightened while the professors were grim.

She knew something had been amiss when she had awakened early that morning to find Saskia speaking to Professor Lovegood. Her suspicions were only confirmed when she was told to pack for a month-long trip.

She didn't know if she should be excited to see the school she had heard so much about, or if she should be wary. She was actually a little disappointed. Her first Christmas with a real family was to be spent at a foreign place. She had been looking forward to spending it in Godric's Hollow, redecorating her room and helping to decorate the house with her new parents.

The mental mention of her new parents led her to glance across the car at her new father.

He looked worried, and she could feel it in the air as well.

The cars around her were saturated with the feeling of terror and, in some cases, anger.

They didn't want to return.

That fact simply made her ire towards the two redheads grow. They expected the professors to come complacently, and if their emotions were anything to judge by, they were hoping that the secrets that began at Hogwarts would end there too.

It was a hopeless situation, and her companions in her compartment didn't remedy it in the slightest.

Harry and Hermione were there, as was Reina Nieves, Lachina Allaway, and Roimata Halloran.

Three of her least favorite people.

She wanted to be in the next car over, which held Professors Malfoy and Lovegood in addition to Azzurra, Maeve, Oliver Alvey, and Lin Xiu. Even the other compartment would have been nice. She adored Professor Weasley, and she got along okay with Professor Longbottom. Remy Ververs wasn't so bad, and Saskia was there.

And there was the silence.

Throughout the entire train, only the sounds of the train could be heard. No one spoke, and it seemed like few were even breathing.

She sighed and let her head fall back against the seat. This was going to be an interesting Christmas.

* * *

Harry Potter was not the kind of man to be afraid, but as he stepped off the platform at Hogsmeade, he knew that the icy feeling racing through his veins was terror.

He was afraid of the reactions. The accusations he could handle, but seeing the faces of the people he had hurt was not going to be something that he could easily handle.

This fear of his was confirmed as the threstals pulled up to the castle and he felt like throttling Ron and Ginny.

Standing at the top of the stairs beside Minerva, with her hands on her hips and a snarl on her lips, was Molly Weasley.

Behind him he heard Hermione swear, "What is she doing here? Don't tell me she's a professor!"

He wrapped his arm around her waist in response, "Apparently so."

Her eyes seemed to find his casual, but intimate, contact with Hermione as soon as it happened. She cast a glance toward Ginny, who dodged it.

Sighing, Molly pushed past the two youngest of her brood and marched up to the young headmaster.

Harry stiffened and felt Hermione do the same, "Hello Molly."

"Hello," Hermione greeted offhandedly.

"How could you leave us like that?"

He sighed. That was what he had been worried about. How was he supposed to answer questions like that? The secrecy spell kept him from telling her the complete truth, not even the strongest truth potions could drag it out of him. The problem with this impossible situation was that no answer would satisfy her unless she could be told the entire truth. And Harry knew that she couldn't handle the truth. There were some things that people were not meant to know, and in this case, it was one thing that Molly Weasley was not meant to know.

"We left because we had nowhere else to go," Neville replied coolly.

_Thank Merlin he's here_, Harry thought, _He's the only one with the gall to say that to her nowadays._

Molly glared, "Did you ever stop to consider what might happen if you did this?"  
It was Harry's turn to glare as he pulled up to his full height when he stepped away from his wife, "Actually yes, I did. We all did. Constantly. You have no idea how much that particular question has haunted us, but we made the right choice. This was for the best and one can only hope that you learn that before it's too late."

He brushed past her, his companions following. Draco, he noticed with amusement, completely skirted around her, keeping his head down so she wouldn't notice the Malfoy heir.

She didn't, but she did detect someone else.

"George?"

Every head turned to find the last Marauders' professor standing tall in front of his mother. His eyes were cold, as if appraising an enemy before combat.

Harry swore under his breath. This wasn't going to end well, and he noticed that the other professors had pushed ten of the eleven children behind them. Charity was the only one to stay in front, and she stayed firmly by his right side, Hermione on his left as Luna took her stance on the other side of the brunette.

He casually pulled out his wand. He was certain that Ron and/or Ginny had passed on the fact that all of the Marauders' faculty were adept at wandless magic, but that wasn't going to stop him, and the others, from using the wands to not only restrain the spells' power, but to also keep the wandless fact quiet.

Then it hit him. He was preparing to fight the first woman he had seen as a mother. Molly had taken care of him when he couldn't do it himself, and when Hermione was incapable of helping him. Molly had fed him and taken him to get school supplies. She had offered him a home to escape to when he wanted to leave his aunt and uncle's house. She had been overprotective and slightly overbearing at times, but she had only been doing what she thought was best.

His resolved steeled. Just because she was like a mother to him wasn't going to stop him from hexing her if she hurt one of his professors. They were his brothers and sisters, his closest friends and confidants. They were the ones that he leaned on when things got to be too rough.

A gentle touch on his arm made him look to his left. Hermione's cinnamon eyes showed the same resolve, but a shame at the fact that she would do this to the woman who had been so kind to them.

She wanted Molly to be unharmed, but she still wanted the Weasley matriarch to be thoroughly warned about causing the Marauders' visitors distress. This was Hermione's family too, and she didn't want them threatened by any woman other than her.

He almost laughed at that thought. Hermione was adopting some of Andromeda's characteristics without the other woman around.

It was kind of cute.

* * *

George knew that his brother and sister had deceived them the second they left the carriages.

His mother was standing on the steps of the castle, and she was unmistakably a professor.

He swore and pulled to the back of the crowd behind Draco. The blonde man was taller than George, and if the redhead kept his head down, she might skip over him in her scrutiny of the group. But when she confronted Harry, he knew what he had to do. His colleagues started moving again, but he drew his wand and held his ground.

And she saw him.

He wondered if it made him a bad son if he didn't want to see her as his mother anymore. She was another painful reminder of the missing half of his.

Ron and Ginny had been painful, but they weren't nearly as bad as Molly.

They hadn't scolded him. They hadn't tucked him into bed as his brother slept in the bed beside his. They hadn't been the one to always call out both names.

"George?"

The name didn't sound right falling from her lips. He missed the way she used to say both names. Just his didn't sound right, not from her.

"Hello Mum."

He braced himself for the curses and the hexes. He was prepared for the angry tears and the shouts of anger. He knew, better than most, what the wrath of a very angry Molly Weasley was like. So he prepared himself for the worst.

Which left him unprepared for what happened.

Instead of the tears of anger, there were tears of joy. Instead of curses and hexes, there was a bear hug that crushed the air out of his lungs. Instead of the shouts of anger, there were other things.

"Thank Merlin you're alive!" was one of her teary cries that stuck in his mind. There were others, but that one was the one that stuck.

He sighed and held his weeping mother. Smiling slightly, he leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry Mum."

He instantly regretted it, because the words seemed to snap her out of crying-happy-mode and into fury mode.

"Just what were you thinking? You had us all worried!" she ranted, "Do you have any idea what it was like? I lost Fred and then I lost you too! What were you thinking?"

"That I had to get away," he replied quietly, "Everything reminded me of Fred. I had to get away; I was losing it by staying. At Marauders'," his gaze flickered up to Charity and she grinned sadly in reaction, "There are others like me. Twins who have lost their twin. It was easier to deal with the pain when there was someone else there who knew what it was like."

She just gave him a level stare, "I don't care. You are never going to scare me like that again!"

"I'm still going back. Whether you want me to or not, I'm going back when this is all over. My place is there."

Behind Draco, Remy Ververs beamed down at his professor.

"Hogwarts…"

He shook his head, "It's not the same Mum. My place is at Marauders'. The students there need me more than any Hogwarts student could ever need me."

* * *

It was rather amazing that they had managed to move past Molly without Draco being spotted. He was not so lucky when Zacharias Smith spotted him.

"DA member at twelve o'clock," Luna whispered.

He followed her gaze to find the young professor glaring from the head table of the Great Hall. Smith smiled maliciously, "Hello Malfoy!"

The entire Great Hall, which they had just entered, fell silent.

Draco turned his attention to the rest of the Hall, swearing as he shot a worried glance at Harry.

The Hall was full of students.

Harry turned to Minerva, "You promised us that our survival would be kept quiet. No one was to know that we were back."

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, but it's better this way. You were a sign of hope for the magical community. If this is what it took to force you back into society, then so be it."

"Did you ever consider that maybe we wanted to stay hidden?" Draco hissed.

Her lips pursed, "Mr. Malfoy, I ask that you not terrorize the students or the faculty, so please keep your temper in check."

It was only Luna's small hand on his wrist that kept him from blowing up the Great Hall. He had been expecting this. The anger and distrust that survived after the war. He didn't expect anyone at Hogwarts to be able to forgive him for his misspent youth. He was the face of the enemy to many of the DA. He remembered that it had taken years for Lavender, Parvati, and George to trust him even in the slightest. During the war it hadn't been a problem. He was an ally and that was all they cared about during the battles. He had proved that he was reliable on the battlefield, but once the war was over, it was back to overcoming the social barriers that existed between them because of his Death Eater upbringing.

Luna tightened her grasp on his wrist as another professor moved in front of him. Behind him, George sighed.

"Mum, please don't. Ronnikins and Gin-gin give their approval to him as a person. Just give the guy a break."

Molly huffed and spun on her heel, returning to the head table. He groaned as he saw the glares being sent his way.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Draco was right. It wasn't something that Neville would admit often, but the man knew how to call the spots of trouble in a situation like this.

He sighed as he walked into the greenhouses he had adored when he was younger. Back then they had looked majestic and gleaming. Now they looked old and decrepit, like a long-forgotten memory. The stars were shining through the glass panes, some panels tarnished with age. The moon hung in the velvet sky, white with innocence.

Or was it white with death?

He preferred to think of the second meaning. The entire school reeked of death, the scent he had tried so hard to forget.

"I thought I would find you here."

He turned to see Draco walking through the greenhouse. The blonde man looked worse than he had when they had arrived, and Neville was reminded once again of what the—formerly perfect in every malicious way—Malfoy heir was going to be facing now that they had returned to the world.

"It doesn't look the same," he complained, "I remember being so entranced by this place. Now I just want to watch it burn to the ground."

"Bad memories?"

"You have no idea."

Draco nodded, "I think I can imagine."

The two stood underneath the twinkling stars in the greenhouse. Neville frowned slightly after a few moments.

"How do they manage it?" he asked, "The stars, I mean. How can they stay so innocent and constant after all the death and destruction they've been forced to witness? And the moon is always there, always lending light to the travesties of human life. I think that if I were a star, I would want to look over a different world. This one is to melancholic for my tastes."

"And yet you persist in living."

"I have no other choice. If I don't move on, then who will?"

Draco laughed, and Neville noticed that the sound was hollow and broken, "You're right. As for the stars, I'd like to think that they're blind and deaf. They have no sense at their disposal to observe this world. As a result, they continue twinkling happily as if nothing has happened. They can't see the destruction and they can't hear the screams that fill every last crevice of this world."

"That sounds better than the stars being cruel and enjoying our misery."

The greenhouse door opened behind them, and both wizards assumed that Luna or another of their colleagues had decided to join them.

"Mr. Longbottom?" the newcomer asked, "Mr. Malfoy."

Neville almost swore when he recognized the voice. The second name had been in a surprised tone, and he quietly drew his wand in preparation to defend his somewhat friend.

He turned around and smiled, "Hello Professor Sprout."

"Professor," Draco acknowledged.

"Professor, I have always respected you, and I would hate to be the one to show you exactly what it is that I would do to protect those that I care about," Neville said calmly. Draco sent him a confused stare, but quickly diverted his attention as he followed his colleague's intense gaze on the Hogwarts professor's hand.

She had drawn her wand.

"You have to understand my position Mr. Longbottom," she explained slowly, "You disappeared for eight years. We have no idea of where you were or what you were doing. Then you return and a known Death Eater is with you, and yet you make no move to apprehend him. You even defend him. Excuse me if I'm unsure of whether or not I can trust you."

Neville clicked his tongue, but Draco spoke first, "Death Eater?"

"Wait!" the younger of the two herbology professors called.

He was to late. Draco had already thrown out his left arm, roughly pulling back the white and black fabric covering the arm. He heard Professor Sprout's quick intake of air and he knew that the sight shocked her.

The flesh was bare.

"Do not call me a Death Eater Ms. Sprout," Draco kept his voice low and calm, "I was never branded. You can call me whatever you want, but never call me a Death Eater."

"You're just as proud," she began sadly.

Neville watched his friend tense at what she had been alluding to. Glaring at the woman, he reprimanded, "Professor!"

Draco was already replying darkly, "And never compare me to my father."

Neville had seen this coming, and he quickly raced out of the greenhouses. He ran until he caught a sight of white at the top of the castle stairs. Luna looked worried, her silvery blue eyes darker than normal.

"Where is he?" she demanded, "What's happening."

"Professor Sprout," he explained as he leaned over, trying to catch his breath, "She…I don't know. I didn't think that the faculty here would actually try and accuse Draco of being a Death Eater, but she did."

He didn't get a chance to finish as Luna leapt down the rest of the stairs, a streak of white across the ebon shadows that were cast across the school grounds.

* * *

Luna's heart was racing. She had been in a meeting with the other professors when Hermione had noted that Neville was missing. Draco had been sent to find the missing wizard, and he had found him. She had felt it as she followed the blonde with her empathy. He had been speaking calmly with Neville when everything changed.

First it had been apprehension, then anger.

Then all the emotions she remembered from the night Ginny had confronted him had come rushing back. That creeping gloom that ate away at his very being was back, invading his aura and scaring her.

She had to find him.

Sliding into greenhouse 3, she managed to catch the tail end of the dispute.

"Why are you even among them? You only caused them pain."

She heard Draco sigh, "I'm not going to justify my childhood to you. If you would stop for a moment and think about it, you would know why I'm not going to bother with it. They have forgiven me and that is all that you should be concerned with."

There was a rustle of fabric. Then, "If I curse you right now, what would you do?"

"Nothing. I gave Minerva my word that I wouldn't raise a hand against any Hogwarts resident. This includes you. I'm going to stand by my word."

Luna smiled. She knew how proud he was, and how much it pained him to stay out of a fight over him. The fact that he was willing to let bygones be bygones showed that he was much more mature than most of the world. He had grown up with the worst prejudices, but he set them aside. He was just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

Then she felt the growth of magic coming from the other occupant of the greenhouse.

She recognized that spell.

Without thinking, Luna raced around the wall in time to cast the counter-curse.

"Miss Lovegood."

Luna replied grimly, "Professor Sprout."

"Why did you interfere?"

Something in Luna snapped. She stepped forward, her voice cold and calculating as she hissed, "That is none of your concern."

It didn't seem to convince the Hogwarts professor, who had noticed that Draco had subtly drawn his wand in preparation for a fight.

She raised her own, only to have the miffed young witch knock it away.

"Don't touch him!" she hissed violently, "I don't care what you do to me, or what you say about anyone else, but don't you dare touch him!"

Professor Sprout repeated her question.

Luna snarled, raising her own wand to give lethal butterfly kisses to the elder professor's neck, "We've taken a lot of lives. What would make one as insignificant as yours any different?"

* * *

Elsewhere on campus, Ginny Weasley sat in her office, pouring over old records from the war. In front of her was the autopsy report for Cho Chang. It seemed perfect, until the redheaded witch caught sight of something that had been erased. She quickly cast the spell to reveal the forgotten words, and time stopped as she read what they were.

"I was right," she whispered.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thought that Draco had been honest with her when he said that their deeds would rot the ears of any listener.

* * *

A/N: Wow, that was longer than I expected it to be. I'm sad because this whole thing is coming to an end. There will only be about two or three more chapters before the epilogue.

My thank you list: **mafercita, wasu, delusionalmilitant** (thank you for sending me the PM with your theories instead of posting it in your review)**, MUSKRAT04, Evil-Bunny-Girl, Tris16, Fibinaci, kittydemon18, michelline, NicoleFrederick, babes, kelmo, hpnut1, Hotkat144, eaglesfreak17, Merlindamage, truest-of-true-loves, Clell65619, LittleMissTrumpetPlayer, mathaisgranger, **and **Mela**

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_

**This time I'll be nice, once more, if this can be considered nice: **

"_I didn't kill him."_


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Revelations

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Chapter Fourteen_

_Revelations

* * *

_

"Azzurra, Saskia, Maeve, Reina, and Oliver have all passed their tests with flying colors. Lachina, Lin Xiu, and Roimata did extremely well, but not as well as the others. Rembrandt couldn't be tested because they don't offer that class here."

He sighed, green eyes travelling to the door to their right at the end of the corridor, "And Charity is in the middle of her exam."

"Rhys is out in the greenhouses finishing up his," she concluded, "Speaking of the greenhouses; you do realize that Neville broke the spell last night after the confrontation with Sprout."

Harry closed his eyes, "I know."

It was bittersweet. They could have a family, but at what cost? They were at risk now, and things weren't going to be easy.

"I was right."

But then again, when had things ever been easy?

The two visiting professors looked alarmed at the newcomer standing at the end of the bench they were seated on. An out-of-breath Ginny Weasley looked both excited and disgusted as she moved to sit on the bench across the hall from them.

Her brown eyes were dark and intense, "The spell is broken. I heard you say it. If this is true, then start talking."

"About what?"

"About why you sent in that first group when you knew they would be killed. Were they just a distraction for you? Why sacrifice your friends?" she demanded. She threw a folder at their feet, "I was looking at Cho's autopsy report. According to this she was killed in a battle where she had been ordered onto the field by a one Harry Potter," she paused, glaring at the only male present, "What the hell did you do?"

Harry cast a worried glance at his wife. Her cinnamon eyes were closed, her delicate features etched with sorrow.

"We have to tell her," she whispered, tears lacing the words with terrible beauty, "If she's figured out this much, then we ought to tell her everything."

He turned back, to Ginny, smiling darkly, "We were actually expecting Ron to figure this out first. I'm rather impressed that you managed it before him."

Beside him, Hermione nodded in agreement, "But you only have half of the story."

Now for the hard part.

* * *

It had started when Ron disappeared. They had begun moving constantly, leaving no trace as they traveled. They didn't want to be found by anyone. They were ice, unfeeling, as they thought up plans for the battles to come. They thrived in stolen moments in the dead of the night, taken to keep their fragile sanity in one piece. It had started out as a way to find temporary solace during a war.

Both knew that things were changing, both outside and in, but they ignored it. There was a war going on, and they couldn't afford mistakes.

But then things changed. The war began moving closer to the castle they had abandoned. The war began moving closer to the people they were trying to protect. The drums of war had begun to beat louder and closer than ever before.

Then they realized it, all of the horrid soul pieces on the outside had been destroyed. All that remained were those on the inside of the castle.

So they returned.

They stayed quiet, calling this person and that person to them in the night, working out where people would be when Hell broke loose. By day they destroyed the rest of the cursed objects, by night they planned. It was their routine for so many weeks.

But they still had their stolen moments.

Then everything changed.

"Just accept it," Hermione snapped, "We need your help. If you're worried about what will happen, we can protect you from any ramifications."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Why do you even want me? I thought that I was supposed to be arrested or killed if I came anywhere near this school."

"Do we look like the Ministry?" Harry asked darkly.

Draco shook his head, mulling over his options, "That still doesn't tell me why."

"Because you're brilliant," she hissed, "Even if you're too thick to see it, you're brilliant at making potions. We need those skills right now. This is your chance to identify yourself from the stereotype of the Malfoy family. You can be your own person this way. We're offering you the freedom to choose your own destiny."

After a few moments, the duo heard the blonde whisper, "Fine, I'll join."

The days were spent like that, asking people who really had no choice to join them. Ron and Ginny had tried to see them, tried to speak with them, but they had turned the two away. Things were too stressful and they couldn't risk something going wrong. Ginny wasn't strong enough, and she wasn't smart enough. Ron was smart and strong, but he was too headstrong. This mission required subtly, a trait that only the twins carried. Of course, that was part of the reason Fred and George had been asked to join Harry and Hermione in this risky endeavor.

Then came the day before the battle.

"Luna, is everyone here?" Harry asked the grim blonde leaning against the wall. She nodded stiffly, pulling the mask and hood over her features. He nodded in return and turned to face the brigade, "You know what the plan is. You each have the uniforms, and Hermione has finished applying the charm that will allow us to successfully infiltrate the enemy's ranks."

He noticed a couple people nervously touch their left arm, where the faux—but so convincing—Dark Mark was temporarily branded on the flesh.

"I understand that this must be difficult for some of you, but please understand that this is for the best. If we try to attack him directly, it will never work. We need to be undercover, among his ranks, in order to have a real chance at winning this," Hermione consoled, taking her place beside Harry. He dropped a hand to intertwine his fingers with hers, "If you're concerned about the first stage, then please understand that the second part of that is the only way we can get the Dark Lord to trust us."

There was a solemn murmur of consent, and the group moved to take their places among the trees at the edge of the Forest.

They had been there for an hour when the first wave came.

Beside him, Luna stifled a gasp as she saw Colin kill a Death Eater, only for the mask to fall away and reveal her father. The battle continued, the ragtag group of Hogwarts fighters easily defeating the first line of guards.

Harry gave the signal, and his group dropped to the ground, every single body dressed like a Death Eater. It was then that the real battle began.

Hermione stayed close, fighting off the Creevey brothers with him. Around them, soft cries of remorse could be heard as friends took the lives of friends. Colin and Dennis fell, and Cho fell at the mercy of Harry's spells soon after. Justin Finch-Fletchley had tried to save her, but was felled by Hermione as soon as he stepped within her range.

Neville took down Hannah Abbot (1). Lavender claimed the lives of Marcus Belby and Michael Corner. Dean defeated Seamus while Draco killed Terry Boot. George took down Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Parvati had killed Alicia Spinnet. The numbers had left Lee Jordan and Roger Davies to Luna's, currently missing, mercy.

Remus, Tonks, Padma, and Fred had stayed out of the way; protecting the lines to make sure none escaped the carnage. When the Dark Lord had called their group to him, they had rejoined their comrades.

They had all been sickened by the praise and defiled glory they had received for their supposed victory. They had murdered their friends, and though the Dark Lord wasn't aware of the fact that they were not of his loyal members, it didn't change the fact that they had still slaughtered innocents that they had ordered into a doomed battle.

It was cruel, but a necessary evil. The Dark Lord trusted them, was relying on them to defeat the 'dreaded' Harry Potter when he made his arrival.

Then the real Death Eaters lowered their guard and the real attack began.

Spells began flying everywhere, and death was instant for many.

Neville found his parents' tormentor almost immediately, his strength quickly overpowering hers as she fought tooth and nail against him. Draco took his mother's life out of mercy for the poor woman's suffering. His father was not so lucky. The duel was vicious, and by the end of it the elder Malfoy was dead as Draco was close to unconsciousness from the heavy loss of blood coming from the severe wound running the length of his chest.

Harry glanced to the right, past Hermione's position slightly behind him as she fought off Dolohov. He could see Greyback coming after the duo, but something slammed into the werewolf and threw him aside. The snarls and sounds of ripping flesh filled the forest amid the other sounds of battle. He knew that Remus had found his old 'friend' and the two were reuniting. The green eyed man laughed darkly at the thought of the two werewolves ever being friends.

A scream cut through the battle, and his attention quickly went to his left as Parvati took down Death Eater after Death Eater. He could see the dagger sticking out of her sister's chest, and saw Neville end Lestrange's life brutally. In front of him, Fred Weasley protected his brother from an emerald curse. George's reaction wasn't like Parvati's, though. It was as if all emotion fled his being. Harry had never seen such an emotionless fighter before, and he marveled at the differences in reactions between the two broken twins.

Around him, and in him, the battle continued until the there was only Harry and Voldemort.

The snake-man was laughing as Harry pulled the legendary sword from Hermione's—now lacking its beads—bag. The sword was thrown from his hands faster than he could swing it down. The duel continued with occasional help from surrounding fighters.

Then the unthinkable happened. Harry was exhausted and disarmed, down on one knee as he struggled to regain his breath.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to defeat the Dark Lord. He was supposed to save the world. He was supposed to end it all.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin shove Neville out of the way of a curse, much like Fred had done for George. She fell to the ground, utterly still, and behind her, the two feuding werewolves met their end at the other's claws and fangs.

His life was ending. He wished that he had had the chance to tell Hermione the truth about that bubbly feeling he got every single time he saw her. He wished that he had had the chance to return to Godric's Hollow just once more, maybe to rebuild his parents' ruined cottage. He wished that he had had the chance to marry a beautiful brunette with a passion for books. He wished that he had had the chance to meet the children that would never exist. He wished that he had had the chance to see what brave new world would emerge from the victory over Voldemort, something that seemed impossible at that point.

And then it happened. In a flash of silver and ruby, it all ended. There was a blast of energy that flattened the forest around them and threw them all to the ground. The curtains had finally fallen on the war, leaving them to pick up the pieces of their lives.

* * *

Ginny seemed close to hyperventilating as the couple brought their story to a close. Hermione was gripping his hand with bone-crushing force, and he was holding her just as tightly. It was the moment of truth that had been the substance of their nightmares for so long.

"So what you're telling me," the redhead began slowly, "Is that you not only sent them into a hopeless battle that you expected them to be killed in, but that you're the ones who killed them?"

Hermione edged closer to her husband as she timidly answered, "Yes, we did. It's not something that we're proud of, but we had to do it. It was the only way the infiltration would work."

"You killed them. You slaughtered your own friends."

"Yes, we did."

Ginny stood up, her voice rising, "Why couldn't you have chosen different people? You sent in your friends, former lovers, people that you actually cared about!"

Harry stood up as well, drawing himself up to his full height, "They had to be people close to us. Tom needed to think that he was hurting us."

"No, they didn't," she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks, "You're just as bad as them! You killed without mercy. Your family, your friends…how could you?"

The two were so absorbed in the argument, that only Hermione noticed Charity slipping out of the test room at the end of the corridor. She stood up and sidled over to the girl.

"How did you do?" she whispered.

"I passed," Charity replied, her hazel eyes focused on the two other occupants of the hall, "They gave me and 'O', what does that mean?"

Hermione smiled brightly and put an arm around her new daughter, "That's great. I know we haven't covered OWLs with you yet, but and 'O' means 'outstanding'. You did wonderful!"

Charity flinched in her mother's grasp as a wave of violent anger rolled off of the redhead, "What's going on with Miss Weasley and Dad?"

"We told her what happened during the war. She's not taking it too well."

"That doesn't explain anything!" Ginny's voice ripped through the corridor, and Hermione and Harry were surprised with Peeves didn't put in an appearance with all the ruckus, "I don't understand why you did what you did, but your disappearance does make sense now! You left because you were ashamed!"

Hermione answered sharply in her husband's place, "Of course we were ashamed!"

"Do you have any idea what this guilt is like Ginny?" Harry asked icily, "Every time we close our eyes, we see the people that we killed. Every time we try to smell something, we smell burning flesh and the stench of death. Every time we try to listen to something, we hear the pleas and the screams of the innocents we harmed. Every time our flesh touches another's, we feel the wounds we received for what we did."

"Nothing could be as bad as what you gave!"

"Parvati lost two fingers on her left hand. The pinky and the ring finger," Hermione began coldly, "You've already seen what happened to Draco, and Dean has a similar scar across his back. Neville has a scar running the length of his right arm. Luna has one twisting from the top of her left hip to her left ankle. George lost his ear. Harry died and came back because he turned out to be the very thing we were hunting. I still carry Dolohov's curse in the mark across my chest. Lavender, though she hides it by coloring her hair, was cut across her skull. That dark brown hair of her has white streaks in it from that injury."

"We're all marked," Harry concluded, "We all bear some mark of our transgressions. Even you have been marked. No one retained their innocence after that battle."

Ginny's hand flew to her throat, and Charity noticed the thin white scar that was just barely visible above the collar of her robes.

The Weasley sniffled, "Maybe we did lose our innocence, but not nearly as badly as you did. When I showed up at Marauders', I thought you were all just recovering from the shock. Now I know that you're all coldblooded killers."

Hermione frowned, "It was war! You cannot condone the actions of one side but not those of another. Neither side is completely good or bad."

"That's why wars should never be fought," the only male present mumbled, his green eyes focused on the brunette holding the young girl, "They only cause destruction and despair. Even if you're on the side that wins, you're not immune to the suffering. Every side loses in war. There can never be a winner when every side is losing something. War is just pointless."

"Then why fight at all? I seem to remember you being at the front of the Great War."

Harry sighed, his gaze never straying from his family, both of whom were equally focused on him, "I didn't want to," he admitted softly, "And I wouldn't have if Tom hadn't been the way he was. He was killing innocent people for no reason, and it had to stop. He was killing those that had no way to defend themselves against magic. I had to do something. I would be worse than him if I had done nothing."

"You killed innocents."

Fire was burning in emerald seas as he answered sharply, "I made one tiny sacrifice! Fourteen lives in exchange for the countless that were saved by his destruction. I made the best call I could in that situation."

Ginny shook her head, "You proved that you could kill him. You could have done it without hurting your own friends."

Charity felt the crash of emotions in her parents, and she had to lean against her mother to keep from collapsing under the sheer weight of it all. She looked up to find the two involved in a silent conversation.

Hermione seemed determined to convince Harry of something, and he seemed reluctant to go along with it. Charity watched with bated breath as the two nonverbally sorted things out. Eventually Harry nodded, complying with whatever his wife's wishes were.

Ginny was still ranting about Harry killing Tom Riddle when he interrupted her.

"I didn't do it."

The redhead glared, "What are you talking about?"

Hermione pulled Charity over to where he stood, her free hand grasping his tightly. Harry leaned over to lightly kiss her on top of her head before he turned back to the angry Weasley.

"I didn't kill him," he clarified, "I did not kill Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lord. Whatever you want to call him, I didn't kill him."

She started slowly in a dangerous tone, "Are you telling me that there's a madman out there right now? That monster is still alive and you've let the innocent public live in false security for almost ten years?"

He shook his head, "No. I'm telling you that I didn't kill him."

She bit her lip, glaring at Hermione, "What is he talking about?"

The brunette smirked, "He didn't do it. Harry is innocent in the slaying of Tom Riddle. All he did was set the stage for it, but Harry has never been one to kill. He's too good hearted. You should know by now that he can't stand to take another's life. Killing Colin and the others nearly broke him Ginny. It nearly broke us all."

"Way to dodge the question!"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "I told you that he's telling the truth. He didn't kill Tom."

Ginny took a deep breath and a small step forward, "Voldemort was dead. I saw the aftermath. His destruction flattened most of western edge of the Forest."

"What are you asking for?" Harry said, his voice level and cold.

"You had to have killed him. Ron told me about the prophecy. You're the only one who could have done it."

"I didn't do it," Harry repeated.

Charity looked to the other end of the hall at the sound of footsteps. Her eyes went wide with shock when she realized what was going on.

Harry spoke once more, "I did not kill Tom Riddle."

"I did."

* * *

A/N: Ah, the last actual chapter of _Marauders'_. I've enjoyed writing this, and just so you know, the epilogue will be about twenty years in the future, and I will reveal the killer's identity. Most of you should be able to guess who it is.

This chapter isn't as good as I thought it would be, so please bear with any mistakes in the flow.

Did anyone else see the article about JKR announcing that Neville had married Hannah Abbot? That was just crazy.

I would also like to announce the debut of _October Wind_. I noticed that Draco and Luna were taking over my chapter, so I decided to give them their own story. _Wind_ is darker than _Marauders'_, and it is set in a timeline that might of happened if The-Book-That-Did-Not-Happen…well…didn't happen. For those of you that enjoyed the Draco/Luna stuff in this, I hope you enjoy _Wind_ as well.

My Thank You list: **pstibbons, SpeedDemon315, kittydemon18, Tris16, deep85, harryxhermionelover, dpwheels57, Belladonna16, missmady15, Evil-Bunny-Girl, ThrushFlightEdward'sStalker, wasu, eaglesfreak17, MelanieB, dexterZ, Merlindamage, mafercita, delusionalmilitant, Doctor G.W. Midnight, Mrs.Scott323, sinnerchrno, Wonderbee31, hpnut1, LadyKnightSusan, Anonymus, immortal7, Clell65619, Fibinaci, truest-of-true-loves, Hotkat144, **and** Mela**

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_


	16. Epilogue: Speaking To My Past

_**The Marauders' School of Magic**_

_Epilogue_

_Speaking to My Past_

* * *

_Dear Zuzu,_

_On this day, twenty years ago, I found a home and a family to love. Twenty years ago, I found a group of wonderful friends. Twenty years ago, I found out that a certain divinations professor had had a little affair with a certain redheaded Wizard Studies professor. Twenty years ago, I found out that I am a third degree empath. Twenty years ago, I discovered the truth behind the Battle of Hogwarts._

_Yes, they killed their friends, but they have repented for their actions every day since. Things eventually settled down from that dark day at Hogwarts when the truth came to light. Serena, the werewolf professor, moved away to Ireland. She now lives there with her fiancé Conner, an Auror, and works as a private tutor for werewolves. Her younger brother Teddy is currently training to become an Auror like his brother-in-law. Her cousin Kristina, the last of the Black legacy, married her Muggle detective (is it just me or do they have a thing for law enforcement?) and moved to British Columbia. Last thing I heard, she owned a café and they had a little girl named Electra. They've been replaced by old friends of my parents. They talked the younger brother of Albus Dumbledore into replacing Kris as the history professor. A young woman (whom we both know) by the name of Saskia Bergfalk has replaced Serena._

_As for the professors, my parents are doing wonderfully. The school has flourished under my father's tenure as Headmaster, with my mother there to keep him in line of course. I have two sisters now: Lily Marie and Jaime Rose Potter. They're absolutely adorable. They turn seventeen this year, and they are both excited and sad to be ending their educations at Hogwarts. Why Hogwarts? I asked my mother that one time. She had simply smiled and shared a knowing glance at my father, explaining that there was so much more to the world than just Marauders'. They deserved to know what life was like outside of the school, so they were sent off to Hogwarts when they were eleven._

_They weren't the only professors' children to be sent away either. Violet and Vetiver Longbottom, just two years younger than my sisters, were sent away as well. The brother and sister duo weren't happy about it, but they eventually settled down. I think it helped to have all of their friends there. I think that Lily has a little crush on V, and Vi thinks so too. She's convinced that her brother likes my sister too, and I freely admit to conspiring with her to push them together._

_Then there's Druscilla and Natasha Malfoy. I think they gave everyone at Hogwarts quite a shock actually. No one seemed to expect the infamous Draco Malfoy to settle down with someone like Luna Lovegood. They're a good match. He's grounded and she's always in the clouds. They balance each other out. Of course, now that I think about it, Cilla and Tasha may have shocked Hogwarts with the fact that they're both accomplished psychics. Of course, they did have the two greatest teachers at their disposal. It makes me feel old to think that they're graduating this year with my sisters. _

_Of course, who could ever forget George and Parvati? Remember when we were young, and we used to bet on whether or not Professor Weasley would date Professor Patil. As it turned out, he had dated her for a short time in the days leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts. It took them ten years, but they eventually came back together. I think Molly Weasley was shocked to learn that her son was marrying Parvati Patil (I'm sure you remember the wedding. You were taunting me endlessly about the sari I had to wear as the maid-of-honor. I'll have you know that I actually liked that sari. It was beautiful). I think she was still hung up on Alicia. Either way, they're happy together. And they've given me another reason to feel old. Their twins, Padma and Fred, are starting Hogwarts this year. _

_Zuzu, I know you, and I know that you're probably asking why everyone has twins. The reason was explained by the head Healer at St. Mungo's. There was simply too much magic. The children were inheriting enormous amounts of magic from their, very powerful, parents. It was too much for one infant to handle, so it was divided evenly. Hence the twins._

_I think that it is fun. After losing Chastity, I was so scared of being alone. Now that I'm surrounded by twins who share that same bond that I had with her, it's exhilarating. It's a wonderful thing, being able to watch the new generation rise from the ashes of the old. _

_Speaking of Chastity, I'd like to think that she's proud of me. She was always the stronger of the two, and I sometimes wonder what her powers would have become had she been allowed to live. I'm sure you remember the day that Professor Lovegood announced that I'm a 3__rd__ degree empath. It was so relieving to finally understand why I had so much trouble around certain things. The Deathly Hallows, for instance, used to give me a horrible time (you remember my aversion and attraction to the snitch, the robe, and the wand belong to my father, don't you?). It's amazing to think about, really. Not only can I sense the emotions of others, but I can sense the emotions infused into inanimate objects and places. And to top it all off, I can manipulate emotions too. _

_I think that that sword is what has affected me the most, though. Do you remember it? The sword encrusted with rubies that was in Professor Longbottom's office. It's the Sword of Gryffindor. It's what Professor Longbottom used to slay Tom Riddle. He tells stories on the anniversary of the battle about the end of the war. His description of the blast of magic that came with Riddle's demise is still as vivid as it was when we were eleven._

_Your last letter was cheerful Zuzu, and I'm glad you're having luck fixing the relations between the vampires and the werewolves. It's so wonderful to hear of old grudges coming to an end. I'm happy to deliver the news that the rift between the non-magical and the magical is beginning to heal. Since the successful introduction of purebloods to Marauders' fifteen years ago, things have been looking up. Do you remember when the first of them came? We were sixteen and so carefree back then. I still remember how scared the first year purebloods were when they entered the Great Hall. It was amusing, but it is so comforting to know that there are no longer the problems that we had. There is no culture shock (well, not much) and there are no longer anti-Muggle attacks._

_I have other good news. I found them. I finally found them. I love my parents so much, and I adore my sisters, but it's nice to know where I come from. _

_My biological parents are dead, but I managed to find the records of who they were. I even recovered my mother's journals. _

_Their names were Ailill and Fiona Donovan. According to what I could find, they were part of the resistance. They were killed by a rogue Death Eater in the lull between the wars. Chastity and I were sent away to a Muggle home, but you know how that ended._

_As for my eventual parents, they both send their love and are asking when you are returning. This of course is combined with their desire for me to return as well. Apparently my being in India doesn't agree with Mother. Father said in his letter that she was worrying herself mad over the two of us. To be honest, Mother can worry all she wants. I know she'll be fine as long as Dad is there. _

_Speaking of my parents, Ron and Ginny have moved on! It took them a while to really understand Mum and Dad's relationship after the whole 'they-killed-their-friends-and-Neville-killed-Voldemort' situation cooled down. They brought out hell on a silver platter once the personal betrayal really sank in. But Mum and Dad are Mum and Dad. They stayed by each other and were strong throughout the whole ordeal. Personally, I think that scandal, when it hit the wizard presses, was what finally pushed Draco and Luna together._

_I miss them. I love India, but I miss Godric's Hollow. I miss the way Mum would read us stories while Dad cooked supper. I miss seeing the stolen glances and the quick kisses they shared when they thought we weren't looking. I miss hearing Lily and Rose's protests when they caught Mum and Dad kissing. I miss walking around the school and hearing Saskia lecture her students about the importance of numbers in magic. I miss walking by the war memorial and seeing my grandparents' smiling faces as the autumn leaves fall around them._

_I miss home. I guess that is why I'm going back in two weeks. I hope to see you there Zuzu. After all, it is time for a reunion. Twenty years is a long time, my sister. It's a good enough reason to celebrate. I promise to drag everyone out to dinner at the little café. Mum said that Marcy is still working there, and you know that she makes the best hot chocolate (okay, second to Draco's) in the world. I miss home and everyone there, but it won't be right unless my entire family is there. This includes you Zuzu. _

_I'm getting married this December. I know you had your problems with Remy, but please come. I will only have two bridesmaids and you are one. I refuse to take 'no' for an answer. I expect you to be in Godric's Hollow when I return on 21 November next week. Understand?_

_Love,_

_Coco_

* * *

Hermione Potter laughed when she opened her front door one stormy Saturday night to find Azzurra Acquati standing on her doorstep. The raven-haired Italian witch was soaked to the bone and glaring at the picture on the mantle.

The cinnamon haired professor stood aside. Her disgruntled company slipped into the house, heading immediately upstairs to Charity's old room.

From the living room, Harry Potter watched the silent scene unfold with amusement shining in his eyes. He flashed a smile at his wife as she took the seat next toe him before burying her face in the hollow where his shoulder and neck met, the typically composed witch breaking down in childlike giggles as soon as the upstairs door slammed shut. He wrapped an arm around her, smiling into the mass of cinnamon curls atop her head.

"Do you think we should have told her that Charity returned from India last month?"

This comment brought a fresh wave of laughter out of Hermione, "No!" she hissed, "I'd rather see her reaction when she finds out tomorrow."

"Ginny's letting the Hogwarts crew come home tomorrow."

"Which is why it's the best time to let Azzurra find out that she's been tricked," she replied, "After all, it took us a long time to convince Gin to let Azzurra be considered as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts."

He shook his head, holding his wife a little closer, "I still can't believe Ginny is the new headmistress at Hogwarts."

Without warning Hermione shifted, her body stretching out over the couch as her head landed in his lap, her eyes sparkling as she watched the fire roar in front of them.

"What is it, love?" he asked quietly, emerald orbs focused on the woman he loved.

She smiled wryly, "If we could go back and change the past, would you?"

The question was good, and it made him lean back, his hand running through the cinnamon ringlets splayed across his lap. He examined her carefully. The hair was just the same, albeit less bushy, as it had been when they were younger. She still wore jeans, claiming they were the most comfortable pants in the world. Her emerald shirt, so similar and yet so different than his eyes, was buttoned with the top two undone, the fabric slightly wrinkled. Her left hand, placed on his knee by her head, was slender and fragile looking. Her third finger sparkled where his mother's emerald engagement ring had found a permanent home, the silver wedding band just above it. Her right hand, shaped just like the left, was wrapped around her waist, and he moved his hand to intertwine their fingers, his own silver band shining in the dim light cast by the fire crackling merrily in front of them. She was beautiful, and he couldn't ask for anything more in his life. He thought that he didn't deserve her, but he also didn't think that he was one to question an angel's choice.

He thought of their daughters. There was Charity, not their own but she should have been. Her sandy hair had calmed down a bit, much like Hermione's, into soft waves falling down to her shoulders. Her hazel eyes still twinkled behind her glasses with some untold warmth. Her smile was still happy and cheerful.

There was Lily, the fiery beneficiary of his mother's, and her namesake's, auburn hair. She had the same emerald eyes as well. She was bookish like her mother and a brilliant Keeper in his favorite sport of all. She was intelligent, but slightly forgetful. She was like Charity, warm and lovable. Everyone she met had told him that she was like the reincarnation of Lily Potter the first.

There was Jaime, though she preferred her middle name of Rose, who was like his female double. Her raven hair was wild and yet perfect. Her emerald eyes were bright, but guarded behind thin-framed glasses. She was a great Seeker, better than him. She was smart like her sister and her mother, but she really excelled in the Defense Against the Dark Arts courses. She was street-smart more than anything. She was his daughter. That much was certain. She was dark and brooding, but she could be loud with laughter if she wanted to be.

He thought of the school. Marauders' was doing wonderfully. Prongs had started a prank war with the students of Padfoot, and it was amusing to watch. He still remembered the incident two years ago when a Prongs student had transfigured the Padfoot emblem and uniforms so they displayed the image of a beaten and whimpering puppy instead of the bold Newfoundland they normally presented against a black backdrop. The students of Fleetfoot and Moony were still the brightest, the two houses embroiled in a fierce battle to outwit the other.

The students loved the professors. He knew that they enjoyed his class, and they had fun in Hermione's as well. Luna's was funny and Draco made them feel at home. Neville, the true hero of the war, managed to fascinate them with stories about the plants he had used in the war to help others. Lavender had her hands full showing the students new creatures every year, and she had been pleased to report that there had been a significant drop in the number of students able to see threstals since the time of Charity and her class. Parvati was still stunning her classes and George was still making them laugh. Aberforth managed to captivate them with the history of the magical realm. Saskia, by some miracle, managed to keep them interested in the subjects of astronomy and arithmancy. Andromeda was still the motherly librarian, offering a helping hand whenever she could. Gabrielle Delacour, their new Healer, was enjoying her position as well, though he had the sneaking suspicion that some students were intentionally hurting themselves to see her. And Dean was still Dean.

Two of the Deathly Hallows had found a home in the newly-constructed war museum on campus grounds. He was pleased that they were gone from his home. The Invisibility Cloak was safe too in the hands of Jaime Rose Potter at Hogwarts.

He continued to run a hand through his wife's hair as he stared absentmindedly at the fire.

"Harry?"

Her soft voice, the one he loved to hear, jolted him out of his reverie, "Yes?'

"Are you ever going to answer me?"

He sighed, "I would have liked to have had the freedom to speak with my past, just to tell myself to see the one thing that is more important to me than anything. I still feel like an idiot for not seeing it earlier."

She glanced up at him, "What are you going on about?"

"You," he replied softly, smiling down at her, "I wish that I had seen you sooner. I can't imagine life without you, and it's terrifying to think of a life where you married someone else."

"I'd never do that, and that is not an answer to my question."

He laughed, "No, I wouldn't change a thing."

* * *

A/N: It was originally going to be just the letter, but the Great Pumpkin demanded Pie, so I gave it Pie. It's the right time of the year for Pumpkin Pie of all kinds.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have, and though I'm sad to see it go, I've still got _October Wind_ to keep me sane. Draco and Luna are fun to write, but I'm also planning a new story in a different category to be written after _The Sweet Far Thing_ comes out December 7th (Libba Bray rocks! The woman is a mastermind with a pen).

My thank you list: **HarmoniusPie, StrengthInWeakness, SpeedDemon315, MelanieB, cutecess, ThrushflightEdward'sStalker, pstibbons, wasu, hpnut1, Doctor G.W Midnight, Tris16, dpwheels57, LadyKnightSusan, dexterZ, Mrs.Scott323, BrokenWitch, Chibi-Penguin-Chan, Fibinaci, Shady Lady, Clell65619, rellenh, eaglesfreak17, Hotkat144, ObsidianEsper** (I hope you like the Harmony here!)**, Wonderbee31, truest-of-true-loves, sweetgirl23, Merlindamage, **and** kittydemon18.**

Thank you everyone for all your support while writing this. I really enjoyed reading the reviews and I loved reading your thoughts on the story.

_Until Next Time,_

_Hikari Adams_


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